Mendacium Speculorum
by Densetsu-no-Maguro
Summary: Two witches, one duel, one title. After experiencing a Logic Error, Lambdadelta has been chosen to duel against Featherine Augustus Aurora. But there's something wrong with Featherine, something very wrong. PRE-UMINEKO, Featherine/Lambda, Lambda/Bern.
1. Forced

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 1: Forced_

The witches of the Senate were growing impatient.

They were unusually very anxious and impatient for their own good that day, being witches who were constantly bored for the rest of their eternal lives. Although there were grandiose preparations for the Senate's most important discussion of the century, the witches could do nothing but wait and squirm about in their seats as they were supposed to remain seated until the most powerful witch in the universe has arrived in the meeting hall. The demons who served them didn't know what to do really, for the witches seemed too restless to be served properly with all the sudden happenings that _they_ themselves proposed to carry out. There were witches of all ages, ranging from a few years old to expanded centuries until they themselves had lost count. Most witches had their Readers standing by their side, but some didn't even earn them yet and some just preferred to read their games themselves. One hundred out of one hundred and one were present. For short, the witches of the Senate were very slothful, greedy, pretentious, childish, twisted and most of all, rather _jumpy_ at these types of situations.

Thing is, this time, they _weren't_ any of those attributes although they were _gossiping with their mouths full of half-chewed cake and confectioneries._

"When is Aurora coming?" a witch whispered to another who seemed to be shorter and younger than her by a few decades, childlike even. "She's usually never this late."

"I don't know. This is the first time that she's been this late. It's been ten minutes since the scheduled time, and she's not here yet," the witch responded, playing her hair with her fingers and yawned as she beckoned to her Reader. "Reader. What time is it now?"

The Reader checked her watch and replied, "Ten thirty, postmeridian, milady."

Another witch sighed. "It was supposed to start at _ten twenty_. Can anyone control time here? Is anyone the witch of time or anything here?"

"Perish the thought. No one can control time no matter how much we try."

"True. All we can do is wait for her until we grow older than we already are!"

The rest of the witches couldn't help but wait for the witch as they resigned themselves to the usual tea and confectioneries, and it was such a pain to act civil! Only certain witches could pull it off splendidly, but to the rest, it was simply too hard! They could've done all sorts of things while waiting for her, such as playing games with their Readers, spilling tea on other witches as revenge for past games and so on, so forth. Some of the witches at the left table spoke with each other amiably, but there were a few witches who preferred to stay as civil as they are instead of shifting and squirming in their seats like they had withdrawal symptoms.

Notably the 34th witch of the Senate, Lady Lambdadelta, the Witch of Certainty.

Lambdadelta did have many witches and humans who feared and respected her due to her powers affiliating with universal human (and witch) nature, which earned her a place in the Senate of Witches (or the Witch Council as they simplified it). Wearing the customary grey gown that each member of the Senate of Witches must wear during important discussions, Lambdadelta merely peered over the 33 witches before her as she glanced at the exit without a word. Two tables full of witches (50 of them at each table and the high podium at the far center was for the long awaited witch) faced each other, from the first member to the one hundredth.

"The most powerful witch in the universe, Lady Featherine Augustus Aurora, Witch of Theatregoing, Spectating and Drama has arrived!" a demon announced.

And at last, the hall fell quiet as the doors opened to welcome the arrival of the most powerful witch in the universe, Lady Featherine Augustus Aurora.

The witches stood up in respect as the illustrious witch placidly walked on the red carpet of the meeting hall to her seat at the podium at the far center. Unlike the formal grey gowns the witches wore, she wore her usual pink kimono-like gown with an array of colored sashes below it. Her green sash, hung on her shoulder never ceased to boast to the world about her achievements by the medallion she had strapped on the sash itself. Featherine's long, ebony hair just flowed as she walked, her cane supporting her as she walked although most witches thought that it was mainly for show. And she wore that same condescending, empowering smile on her face as she graced the hall with her appearance, overwhelming most Readers with her presence alone.

She did say she was an old, old witch, but they thought she was cruelly mocking them for being much, much older than her.

Oh, how they hated her.

"Please be seated. The Senate of Witches will commence its seven hundred and eighty-first discussion!" And they sat.

Featherine then took a few papers in her hands, arranged them and cleared her throat a bit before speaking to the council. The rest of the witches did as well, and noticing the displeased expressions on their faces, Featherine couldn't help but giggle as she thought them rather amusing to see at the dead of the night. Opening her mouth to speak, she found herself giggling again with callous amusement, much to the annoyance of the other witches.

"I'm terribly sorry for my tardiness today," she began with a smile. "I had some matters to take care of before I came here, so please forgive me if I had...offended any of you in the Senate of Witches at this hour."

The 97th ranked witch in the council spoke immediately in an indignant tone. "Was it _that_ important, Lady Aurora, that you _forgot to bring your Reader_?"

"Lady Lucinda!" a witch gasped, rather shocked at the rudeness of the young witch towards Featherine, followed by many others.

Featherine looked around with a surprised expression, left and right as if to humor the young witch. "Oh. It seems that I didn't bring her today. Oh my. Thank you for pointing it out, Lady Lucinda. Though it wouldn't be possible to bring my _miko_ to the council due to my matters being attended to earlier. Oh well."

The witches from both tables ended up whispering to one another, wondering what did Featherine mean by that. Lady Lucinda shot Featherine a questioning look, deeming it safe to ask the benevolent witch the question that was on every witch's minds. "What...do you mean by that?"

"Let's get to business, shall we?" Featherine spoke, completely ignoring Lady Lucinda's question and got out the papers and her quill. "We are quite late due to my tardiness, so I will try to finish this up quickly for all of you who graciously decided to attend this important discussion. As you all have been notified, the purpose of this discussion is to select a new, suitable witch in the council to replace me as the most powerful witch in the universe, to which I have consented due to my being _bored_ of the position after holding it for centuries on end.

Lady Lucinda scowled at the word 'bored', thinking it was another way of displaying how arrogant Featherine could possibly be. The rest of the witches took out their papers and quills, ready to write down their opinions. Lambdadelta, who apparently forgot to bring her ink bottle to the discussion, tapped on the shoulder of a witch beside her to lend her some ink to use. The witch lent it to her without complaint, seeing that Lambdadelta was a rank higher than her, and the fact that Lambdadelta asked in a kind manner for it.

"Oh, you don't need to write anything for the time being," the Witch of Drama spoke. "In fact, my matters did tie heavily with today's discussion, and as I have been tasked to prepare the game against my as-of-yet chosen opponent, I regret to say that I have, in human terms...slipped up."

The entire council fell silent. "Slipped up?" the silver haired witch who sat at the right long table questioned.

Featherine nodded. "Sadly. Let's just say that I have...disgraced myself by committing a Logic Error as well."

"WHAT?" Lady Lucinda slammed her hands on the table, resisting against the pulls and shushes of the witches who tried to get her to calm down. "You dare march in here to start the meeting when you have committed a Logic Error that you have stalled to complete? And what are you even doing here if you have committed a Logic Error? You should be rotting in your Logic Error, the one that you shouldn't have made because you are the most powerful witch in the- ack!"

Lady Lucinda was harshly pushed down by the two witches beside her, berating her to shut up if she doesn't want to land herself in trouble.

"And as for the reason why I'm still here today, **it's because I have put my _miko_ in charge of fixing up the Logic Error for me**."

Many heads whipped up as the one hundred witches looked at Featherine with shocked expressions, horrified that Featherine would do such a thing to her cheerful Reader who came to her beck and call as far as they could remember her doing so. The young Reader with her gentle purple eyes and long, flowing blue hair always smiled when she resumed her work or read aloud Featherine's announcements to the council and out, and her fellow Readers nearly gasped at the mention of their associate being tasked the heavy burden of solving Featherine's Logic Error; the Logic Error that she purposely didn't want to solve by her own.

For short, that was the ultimate betrayal from a witch to her Reader. No witch would've imagined the audacity to even do so!

Simultaneously, Lambdadelta and a younger witch with silver hair who was seated at the right long table faced each other in shock, still rather taken aback at the tragically sudden news about Featherine Augustus Aurora's nameless Reader. The poor girl was about Lambdadelta's age, and Lambdadelta spoke to her on quite a few occasions, bought her some _kimchi_ to eat as well when she ran an errand for her. Found her to be a rather nice girl, but to be subjected to that fate either meant that she did something terribly wrong, or it was on a whim. The Endless Witch, Beatrice spoke up, raising her hand slightly to indicate that she needed to speak.

"Please permit me to ask. Why, Lady Aurora?" the silver haired witch asked in a slightly worried tone.

The ebony-haired witch smiled as she wrote down something on her parchment paper before proceeding to answer. "Let me answer your question in reward of asking politely, Lady Beatrice. The game I have constructed for quite some time is mandatory for the duel that is about take place, which involves my opponent and I to see if she is worthy of my position. And it was deliberately on my part to add my _miko_ into the mix to make it more interesting, don't you think?" The last part was addressed to the entire council as they witnessed Featherine Augustus Aurora's face contort into an unsettling smile of twisted amusement. "That should cover all your past questions, Lady Lucinda. Are you satisfied with the answers?"

The pink-haired witch could only stare at Featherine with her wide, shock-filled eyes. "Y-You MONSTER! Subjecting your Reader to such a fate- A-AH...ack...h-hah...!"

"Lady Lucinda, please compose yourself!" a witch spoke, not wanting her fellow witch to be subjected to any form of punishment for talking back to Featherine, but it was too late. Lady Lucinda suddenly found her neck constricting by itself, choking the witch mercilessly as she struggled for breath, flailing her arms everywhere as she struggled to take hold of something to keep her standing. Unfortunately, Lady Lucinda ended up being nearly choked to death; saliva pooled from her mouth to her chin and neck, her eyes rolled back and her tears completely destroyed that haughty look on her face. Lady Lucinda slumped on the table, trying to recover her breath as Featherine revoked the magic constricting her, still smiling that homicidal smile that only senile murderers would smile after stabbing and disemboweling their victims for more than they could remember.

"Thank you for understanding," the high witch smiled in an amused manner. As if she had made a boring statement, Featherine sighed dramatically as two demons and a witch helped Lady Lucinda out, exiting the meeting hall. The rest of the witches still wore horrified expressions on their faces, and a few Readers gripped onto the headboards of their masters's chairs in fear. Looking at her blank parchment paper, Lambdadelta put her quill back, passed the ink bottle back to its rightful owner and stayed quiet, reserving her thoughts to herself like she always did.

She decided that she didn't need the ink after all.

Featherine cleared her throat once more. "That aside for now. I have already chosen my opponent for this unusual yet entertaining game of mine, and when I call your name, please step forward and stand at the center of the hall so that everyone may see you." Picking up a scroll, she proceeded to name the person; her opponent for this game that will determine everything.

"Ranked 34th in the Senate of Witches, Lady Lambdadelta, Witch of Certainty."

Lambdadelta clicked her tongue, as if it wasn't anything new.

As Lambdadelta walked to the center, many witches eyed her as if they knew something might happen to the serious, stoic witch. She could feel the eyes of many rest upon her with mixed emotions, as if she was the main attraction of a carnival. There were mutters that were something like, 'The 34th? Oh, I don't think she'll survive...," "The 1st should be more suitable to go against Lady Aurora...," "W-Will she be okay?" and the like. Standing there, Lambdadelta paid no heed to anything else around her as she curtsied before the council, her expression unwavering as she conjured up a white glove; signifying that she accepted the magical challenge and duel Featherine Augustus Aurora had set. And as Featherine looked at her opponent with a gentle smile, Lambdadelta looked at her square in the eye, as if she had no regard for any consequence that might befall her or just didn't regard being indignant to the current most powerful witch in the universe. There was nothing to lose anyways; she lost much more before, what could Lambdadelta possibly lose in a duel like this?

"I, Lady Lambdadelta, the 34th Witch in the Senate of Witches, the Witch of Certainty, hereby accept the invitation to participate in your game," she spoke.

And as Lambdadelta spoke those very words, Featherine Augustus Aurora felt something very...foreign in her. Something that she hasn't felt for a very long time in her cycles of life and death. It was that euphoria when games started getting interesting, that sheer obsession when she gets hooked onto the game. And for some reason, Featherine felt that feeling all over again when she decided that Lambdadelta would be her opponent, which puzzled and delighted the Witch of Theatregoing at the same time. Oh, this would be interesting. Very interesting indeed. Such blank, yet determined amber eyes looked at her in such a delightfully indignant way.

Oho, and what's that? The eyes of a _human_ reflected in a ranked witch?

No one would've guessed that about serious, stoic, no-nonsense Lady Lambdadelta at all.

But this would be interesting, and Featherine knew it.

After all, what better opponent to play with than an opponent **who had been through a Logic Error like her stupid little _miko_?**

* * *

><p>"I do hope that you know what you are doing, Lambdadelta," Beatrice spoke, her eyelids not opening one bit, nor her serene aura wavering just a little.<p>

"Your well-being is hanging on a balance at the moment, and as a fellow witch, I'm concerned about you." The meeting was dismissed, leaving the two acquaintances having a private discussion among themselves at one of the grand balconies of the council's towers. The long, silver haired witch had a certain symbol that looked like a single designated wing on her gown, something that never failed to leave her attires no matter what. The colour was very royal; gold in fact, and it looked most regal as Lambdadelta let a small smile grace her lips a little as she saw it.

"It's not like I wanted to be her opponent. And if I refuse or lose, I will-"

"Die. Or be humiliated before the court as a coward and then die. The rules must be adhered," Beatrice continued.

Beatrice so happened to be the only person Lambdadelta felt free to interact with as an acquaintance. It was as if Beatrice was the only sane witch there asides from her (oh, who was she kidding, Lambdadelta herself was a tad loony in her mind at times) in the entire council, and probably the only sensible one there. Although Beatrice was much younger and more inexperienced (in rankings) than her, Lambdadelta always found a mature, motherly air in her, as if she could be mistaken for a witch who had went through so much in her entire lifetime. But most of the witches knew that she still had a long way to go, and that Beatrice had still so much to learn in order to become a properly experienced witch in her own right.

"You never cease to have that symbol on, do you, Beatrice?" Lambdadelta spoke. "And you don't have to worry about me. I've been through worse things than what could possibly happen in the future. You should worry more for Aurora's Reader instead of me."

Beatrice shook her head. "It's not wrong for you to believe in justice, love and all that is good. Don't abandon them, Lambdadelta. I know that the Logic Error has been hard on you..."

"You don't," the blonde-haired witch bit her lip. "None of the witches in the council has ever experienced a Logic Error in their lives. It was a mistake on my part. I should've been more careful with my games, but at least it taught me to wake up from my delusions and the fairy tales I've indulged in."

"But Lambdadelta-"

"How's the little princess?" Lambdadelta cut her off immediately, not wanting to hear her friend speak any more about the subject. "Is she working hard to become a witch like you, or has she given up entirely just like the rest of the stubborn apprentices who simply refuse to go on if they can't manage one spell they can't master in a day?" As if she was miming the impression of Beatrice's young student (who was ecstatic on becoming a witch just like her beloved 'Teacher' after an incident involving a vase), Lambdadelta donned a whiny, childish voice and made her cheeks puff out as if she was a little child, exclaiming, "Teaaaacher! I wanna be a witch, just like you!"

The silver haired witch gently hit Lambdadelta's arm, as if to rebuke the higher-ranked witch. "Lambdadelta! That's not funny! And...she's doing well, it's just that she tends to play unlikely pranks on me on some occasions...Don't change the subject, Lambdadelta. You know that you have to know what I'm going to tell you!"

Lambdadelta quit her charade as soon as it started, and her expression went back to her normal, grim one. "You're really stubborn, aren't you, Beatrice? I guess I'll have to take it then. What is it that you want to tell me so badly?"

As if it was highly confidential, Beatrice pulled the more experienced witch closer to her and whispered in her ear.

"Lady Aurora is a dangerous opponent. _**Don't be broken.**_"

Beatrice pulled away, looking at her friend sagely as Lambdadelta looked around to see if anyone was spying on them by chance. Even she herself couldn't tell due to the heavy aura of magic around the council tower, and Lambdadelta could only whisper her questions in the dead of the night.

"Someone could be watching us, is that right?"

"Yes," the silver-haired witch replied.

"What did that last sentence mean?"

"Don't ask what it means, but keep in mind that your virtues must stay with you. Don't throw them away. If you do, you'll be no different than Lady Featherine herself. The Logic Error you have experienced-"

"Don't mention that thing in front of me ever again," Lambdadelta cut her off harshly, hissing through her teeth. "Do you hear me? Never mention it now, or in the future. I don't want anyone to speak to me or ask me anything about it." Her tone sounded rather hurt, angered and venomous, as if she didn't want to remember and relive the same maddening events over again. It was a wonder Lambdadelta even stayed sane after her ordeal. Beatrice realized that it was heavily sensitive, and bowed her head apologetically before continuing.

"I'm sorry. I sense something's very wrong behind that exterior of hers, so as a friend," and with that, Beatrice took Lambdadelta's hands in hers, "I implore you to be careful."

Lambdadelta bit her lip, but mentally braced herself for the worst. She knew that Beatrice was right, and she hated to admit it.

She really hated to admit that a younger witch was right.

But she had no choice.

"...Alright then. I'll be careful. Thank you very much."

* * *

><p>Little did she know that she would need more than her steely determination and her barely-mustered courage for this unlikely game.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wanted to write something entirely different that even everyone seemed rather OOC around here, xDDDD.

This fic of mine serves as a blast of angsty writing that I actually suppressed for quite some time, so it's the main reason why I felt that my humor's slipping away, derp. If you're wondering to yourself; why is Lambda so...Bern-ish, xD. It's one of my weird imagination's concept for her to be sorta like that before Bern escaped her Logic Error and when she's battling with Featherine in the game Bern's trapped in~ And psst; the character who's named Beatrice in there is actually Virgilia, 'cause she's the current Endless Witch at the time, xD.

Hooooooo boy.

So I miiiight take another long hiatus on Rokkenjima Hotel for this fic for the time being uwwwooooo.

-myheart'sbreakingnooo-

And as usual, thanks for reading! :'D I no own Umineko.

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	2. Declared

_Lambdadelta half-expected to wake up in the morning and see the world entirely in black, the floors covered in blood and her lithe, bare body tainted with large, gaping wounds, unknown filth and tear stains all over her face._

_So it was a wonder to wake up and see the royal pink curtains adorning the door to her balcony, her usual dressing table and her other belongings in her room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, and instead of the nauseating smell of rotting corpses and death, Lambdadelta caught the scent of sugared confectioneries and perfume which replaced what she expected to smell. She woke up on her soft king-sized bed, which was a large contrast compared to the floors she slept on (or was she imagining that as well?) because there were supposed to be broken pieces of glass on the floor which were supposed to scratch their way against her pretty skin, drawing blood mercilessly as she twisted and turned. It seemed too good to be true for the Witch of Certainty, who ironically wasn't very certain of her own surroundings, questioning her mind whether it was real or just another delusion the Logic Error set upon her. And who knows?_

_She could be imagining all of this in her mind, when in reality she's still back there. Naked, bruised, shivering and shuddering as she was locked in a place that seemed inescapable._

_Everything that happened 'yesterday' could be a lie._

_Even that could be a delusional dream generated by her already insane mind._

_And instead of regaining her sanity as soon as she got out (or did she, Lambdadelta mused), she could have lost it a long time ago._

_Lambdadelta even touched the hem of her pink nightgown, to see if it was real. Maybe when you're shamelessly naked in a desolate place for a long period of time, you start having those delusions where you're wearing clothes again, probably?_

_Everything seemed worthless._

_Everything seemed totally useless._

_Impractical._

_Irrelevant._

_Not important._

_And maybe she-_

_...No._

_...NO._

_Lambdadelta gripped the sheets tightly, as if she wanted to tear it apart with her bare fingers. With a flash of anger on her face, the Witch of Certainty forced herself to acknowledge the one fact that she herself wasn't certain of ever since the Logic Error happened, and she opened her mouth to repeat the single sentence that could hopefully make her stop thinking about it. It was like a parasite, a tumor in her brain, because the memory was simply too hard to filter and forget. The muscles in her arms tightened and stiffened, and she wondered if they squeezed themselves tight enough, they might just burst in her skin, cause massive internal bleeding and render her arms helpless._

_"I made it out," she began, speaking to herself quietly. "I made it out. I made it out. I made it out. I made it..."_

_But it didn't work._

_It just didn't work._

_Frustrated, angered and scared, Lambdadelta opted to throw the music box on her bedside table at the door, but she begrudgingly controlled herself, taking deep breaths._

_..._

_Breathe in, Lambdadelta. Breathe out._

_..._

_...Well._

_She still has anger left in her even though she was supposed to be broken and robbed of emotions._

_At least she has that._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mendacium Speculorum<em>**

_Chapter 2: Declared_

If one observed really, really closely, they would find that Featherine Augustus Aurora wasn't the type of witch who delighted in table manners.

The far, opposite ends of the long, dining table in the great dining hall were occupied as always, having the most powerful witch in the universe seat at one end. It had been a long time since a witch or a guest of honor graced the Witch Council's majestically regal dining hall, where they had the finest of dishes and exquisite delicacies during formal and casual breakfasts, lunches and dinners. However, this morning was different though, for instead of the usual one hundred and one witches seated for breakfast at the main table, they were supposed to stand at attention from both sides of the table, left and right without ingesting any morsel of food for the morning. Two lines, fifty witches each, as per custom.

Only thing is, the line on the right had forty-three witches instead, with Lady Lambdadelta occupying the usually desolate seat at the opposite end of the table and _six other witches standing at attention beside her like an entourage._

Now it does sound rather ridiculous, and Featherine couldn't agree more. The Senate of Witches was almost equivalent to living in a palace, and each ranked witch had their own rooms in the many towers of the castle, even though they had certain residences or kakeras to reside in. And when it comes to staying (even overnight) in such a palace, etiquette must be exercised. The entourage of witches were necessary though; it is customary for the duelists to be accompanied out of respect and the duelist who has a lower rank than her opponent would be treated as if she had been elevated many, many ranks above her current one or, if possible, the same rank as her opponent. Featherine herself had six witches beside her, which left the line on the right quite short of the supposed number of witches too.

But to be honest, she didn't mind that.

Featherine just wondered _when will Lambdadelta ever begin a conversation, much less talk_.

It just bothered her like an itch. Pensively looking at the blonde-haired witch wearing a light pink gown with transparent bell sleeves and a necklace with a tiny, red bow to match, Featherine was rather appalled at how Lambdadelta's appearance could easily deceive any unsuspecting creature around her. There she was, eating daintily and silently as if she wanted nothing to bother her at all, giving the mistaken impression of a fine lady no older than fifteen. Of course, Lambdadelta wasn't a witch to be trifled with, nor was she that young, but ever since the Logic Error struck her, she could be mistaken for a weak, mute girl since she absolutely refused to talk unless someone asked her a question or when etiquette called for it.

_Oh my._

_I've been thinking too much for my own good lately_, Featherine thought to herself.

"Is the food to your liking, Lady Lambdadelta?" Featherine asked, having gotten bored of the silence in the hall. Lambdadelta merely stopped cutting the lettuce on her place and slowly positioned her utensils in such a fashion that indicated that she would engage in a conversation during the meal.

"Yes. And you?"

"It's rather bland, don't you think?" she smiled.

"It's edible, and I think not. If you want to start a conversation, Lady Aurora," Lambdadelta remarked, "then you should get on to the point about the subject you wish to discuss."

Featherine chuckled lightly to herself, snapping her fingers as a witch brought her a goblet of water. Downing it down, she put the goblet back onto the tray and without anymore regard for dining etiquette, she put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands. "I'm very sorry for delaying then. What I wish to discuss is about the layout of the game that we are to play soon. You don't mind if the rest of the council listens, do you, Lady Lambdadelta?"

Lambdadelta looked at Beatrice, who was silently hoping that nothing disastrous will happen at the moment. "I don't mind. Not at all."

Weaving the layout of the game with her gloved fingers, Featherine drafted many mechanics of the game as she made it appear in the air with her magic. As the little threads of magic weaved together rapidly, the witches were whispering to one another and were simply curious as to what game Featherine has up her sleeve. She had masterminded the best games in history; let it be murder, torture, investigations and her most famous: overlapping genres. Her overlapping genre games were impeccable, for she would use one genre to dampen and conceal the true genre within in order to confuse her opponents. Lambdadelta herself was rather curious as she paid attention to the little threads of magic joining themselves like a little puzzle of sorts.

And then, that was it.

A closed room game.

"That's it?" a witch blurted out. "A _closed room game?_"

That's far too simple a game for Featherine Augustus Aurora!

Featherine shook her head, giggling delightfully to herself. Snapping her fingers again, the layout had changed somewhat to show the interior of the central matter of the game; the confinement of Featherine's blue-haired _miko_ inside the room. As Lambdadelta analyzed the situation, it seemed that the game was a scrapped game which Featherine had played with an unknown opponent long ago until they became terribly bored of it and Featherine decided to just leave it there after the game was passed on to her to solve as a keepsake. Well, of course Featherine wouldn't solve it by herself; she's done that so many times already, and at times, it just gets droll and boring. Beatrice and Lambdadelta couldn't help but pity the poor _miko_ as she looked so helpless, stripped of all hope and so delusional.

It was as if Lambdadelta was looking at herself.

It was as if Featherine whipped out a magic mirror and reflected her nightmares right back at her.

"To tell you the truth, I sort of recycled this game and saved it from the scrap heap," the Witch of Drama callously giggled. "You see, it was a bit troublesome to make a new one, and while I was having quite a tussle about it, I thought, why not use one of my old ones? It was so long ago, how many years has it been? So I took it into my own hands and tinkered with it, but unfortunately I forgot the mechanics of the game and the Logic Error happened. And I thought; this would be a good game to finish. With a little twist, of course. Problematic games are the best, aren't they, Lady Lambdadelta? So I invited my_ miko_ to see this beautiful game, which unfortunately was rather barren and unfinished..."

"...And I tricked her into it," Featherine finished.

At the corner of her eye, Lambdadelta could see many witches contorting their faces into expressions that displayed full horror at the fact that Featherine did such a thing. A Reader fainted, causing her Master to help her up and support her to keep her standing, but the truth be told; it was a despicable act during that time in the Senate of Witches. The witches would handle their games with full responsibility, although some of them wouldn't, but they wouldn't go so far as to purposely condemn someone in a Logic Error. And when Featherine spoke her final sentence of the story, they could sense the twisted amusement in her voice, completely giving away her regal facade. Beatrice put her hands to her mouth, thoroughly shocked and terrified that Featherine was reveling in this...this...madness.

But when the council looked at Lambdadelta, they were shocked to see that she bore no reaction at all. Instead, she clinked her utensils together, signifying that she had finished her meal and leaned back into her chair.

"Aha. Very good. I asked about the layout of the game, Lady Aurora. Not how you trapped your Reader in it," Lambdadelta spoke directly and coldly, and rather calmly.

Featherine smiled.

She liked direct opponents who demanded what they specifically wanted.

And Lambdadelta was a master in that; getting what she wants with that sharp tongue of hers.

"Alright then, Lady Lambdadelta," Featherine replied with a hint of humor in her tone. "It consists of a closed room, as you've seen. But it isn't the usual closed rooms that all of you know and played. It's just a closed room she's in, not the proper locked room mystery. You know those games where you suddenly wake up in a room and find that you can't get out, nor know how did you land there in the first place? This one...requires my _miko_ to do all the work instead of us. What you have to do, Lady Lambdadelta, is figure out a way for her. Create possibilities and with your Certainty," with that, Featherine crossed her legs and smirked a sultry smirk at the other witch, "we'll see if you can help my _miko_ to get out."

It sounded pretty easy. Think for the trapped person. Do her thinking as you illuminate the way for her.

But Lambdadelta knew it wasn't.

"An ontological mystery, is that right?" Lambdadelta affirmed, prompting Featherine to clap her hands with a little "Brava!" escaping her lips.

Oh, how she loved how her opponent got on so quickly! Featherine was simply delighted; Lambdadelta was so suitable for the title of her opponent!

"Yes, that's precisely correct! I simply love how you get on so quickly, Lady Lambdadelta! And one more thing," Featherine wiped her mouth, placing the cloth on the table after she had done so. "There is something that I need to ask you personally. Will you care to listen?"

"What is it?"

"Do you believe that my _miko_ can solve the Logic Error?" Featherine asked, swirling the liquid in her goblet as she awaited the other's answer.

Ah.

She wanted her to confirm with certainty.

Lambdadelta knew that Featherine wanted her to make a certain point that might determine the _miko's_ fate. Words were pretty meaningless everywhere in the universe, but when it came to this, a statement made by the Witch of Certainty would be the absolute outcome depending on the person's effort. Needless to say, Lambdadelta really didn't care much about the game after all, seeing that everything became pointless in her eyes after her ordeal, but there was just something that was tugging at her gut.

There was something that was telling her to trust again.

There was something that was telling her to believe in the unjust victim trapped in the box.

There was something that told her...

that there was still hope.

_Lambdadelta could bring that hope._

And it was truly a heart-wrenching sight; the words _"Master...Where are you...?"_ being echoed in that dark room with all the deformities around her clawing everything, ripping her hopes and trashing her dreams.

But the _miko_ never gave up. Lambdadelta would give her that.

...

...

...Tsk.

Lambdadelta decided to give it another shot.

"**I am certain that she will solve the Logic Error**," Lambdadelta declared. "Required that she doesn't breach my expectations."

The Endless Witch smiled, knowing that Lambdadelta indeed had a good heart buried deep in her stand offish facade. Many witches were rather surprised at her confidence upon her own certainty, but the person who had the most thrill of them all was none other than Featherine herself. It was simply wonderful, everything was so smoothly done and easily prepared to fight against such a worthy, worthy opponent. Everything about Lambdadelta was simply delightful, simply suitable to be the ideal opponent she had wanted for quite some time after living and dying and living and dying, over and over again.

Except one thing though.

When it came to these things, Lady Lambdadelta was a very predictable person.

Maybe it was because of her human-like heart.

Oh well.

Featherine knew she'd come to love it.

"Very well, Lady Lambdadelta," she replied, still having the smile on her face. "I have anticipated that from none else than you."

But oho.

She'd anticipate much, much more from the Witch of Certainty.

For starters, Featherine would very much anticipate the taste of her beautiful, flawless flesh.

* * *

><p>In the dark room, the blue-haired girl assumed a fetal position on the invisible floor, stained with blood, water and other kinds of unspeakable filth.<p>

Everything was just out to get her, she assumed. The rats on the walls, the ghostly contact of unknown creatures against her bare skin and the mere fact that no one was there simply horrified her. How long had she been there already? Her Master simply wanted to show her the beautiful mechanics of the game that was to be held against that nice witch who gave her _kimchi_ long ago, but in the blink of an eye, she found herself in this place.

Where were the beautiful things that her Master wanted to show her?

Why aren't there any doors in here?

Why is it...so...cold...?

And by instinct, the miko covered her entire nude body, stained with the sickening scent of blood in an attempt to keep herself warm. Her teeth gritted, her body shivered, and she was just so embarrassed, so alone, so uncared for. She could be sitting down on her favorite blue chair and sip her favorite umeboshi tea as she read aloud one of Featherine's stories with much vigor in her heart. Instead, everything looked so hopeless, so desolate, so...so...

Blank.

Everything was black and blank.

And suddenly, one of the rats bared its fangs, lunging at her to simply bite off her flesh.

"N-No...Leave me alone!" she exclaimed, narrowly dodging the rat's attack. Her eyes widened with primal fear as she saw it disappear and rejoin the other rats in the blink of an eye, eyeing her with a vengeful look as if she had done something wrong to it. Running to another corner in the room, she curled up into a ball and looked up into the blank ceiling of the closed room.

She could still feel the recent attacks of the other rats on her skin, leaving gaping wounds that displayed her bloodied muscles.

"Master...where are you...? W-Why aren't you here yet...? I-I'm scared, Master...I'm really, really...s-s-scared..."

_Please save me._

* * *

><p>Who wouldn't want to get their hands on the one obsession they have?<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Guuuten morgen everyone...yawn.

I could say that I've been a bit short on this chapter, and it's still a bit boring because I thought I should take things slow and introductive, xP. And lately since Christmas's coming, I've got a lot of plans on my hand, xDDD. So it's like: "PLEASE CAN I GO HOME NOW I NEED TO FINISH UP A CHAPTER" and it'll just be stuck in my little brain due to me stuffing down Christmas buffets, :3

To confirm your suspicions; yes, Featherine's obsessed. With Lambda.

Thanks so much for the reviews! :'D They really get me hyped up to write :'DDD *gets sparkly eyed anticipating for moar reviews, xD*

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	3. Longed

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 3: Longed_

Right after the ceremonial breakfast, Lambdadelta was expected to prepare for her departure to Featherine Augustus Aurora's domain, to which the Endless Witch proceeded to help her senior and friend in her preparations. Gowns, dresses and accessories were strewn everywhere on the bed and the marble floor of the room, which Lambdadelta herself was surprised at finding that she owned so many of them. Books were everywhere as well, but Lambdadelta didn't need to take those; Featherine's abode was a library in itself already. And right outside the tall, ornate doors of Lambdadelta's room, there was a gathering of forty nine witches from the Council to serve as an audience and Lambdadelta's personal entourage before her departure from the Senate of Witches. However, Lambdadelta had strictly wanted Beatrice to attend to her that morning, and permitted no one to come in her room.

Now despite Lambdadelta's rather serious (yet occasionally amiable) nature, she made many friends and patrons, even more so than a socialite would. Her abilities, powers and sheer charm had earned her the respect of territory lords, great witches who have retired from the previous generation of the Senate of Witches as well as the mediocre creatures known as humans. You could say that Lambdadelta was a rather influential witch, but in a perspective, you could imagine her being the apple of the Council's eyes or the black sheep among the herd. Of course, there _were_ people who disliked her. As Beatrice brushed Lambdadelta's hair, Lambdadelta pondered over a contract of sorts while twirling her quill expertly using her fingers.

"What do you plan on doing?" the silver haired witch asked, putting away the brush. The Witch of Certainty bit her nail despite having her gloves on, set the quill down on the table and stood up, raising her arms left and right towards both of her sides to let Beatrice dress her. Her undergarments were removed one by one, until the mandatory ones were left on her to ease her movement for the time being. Fetching some underskirts, Beatrice fitted the underskirts and a new pink gown on Lambdadelta, and just when the Endless Witch thought that her question would be best left unanswered, Lambdadelta nodded her head as a sign of thanks, walked towards her dressing table and signed the contract right on with her forehead creased, signifying that she had made some sort of difficult decision that leaves her no choice but to do it.

"Something," Lambdadelta replied, magically waving the contract away. "I can't tell you what's on my mind at the moment."

"You _never_ tell _anyone_ what's on your mind at any given moment," Beatrice aloofly said with a smile, adjusting the ribbon behind Lambdadelta's dress as she tugged it gently and carefully. "But I do not wish to pester you about it for long. I know that you have your reasons, so for my safety, I shall refrain from whining about it."

"You're such a nuisance sometimes, but I guess it can't be helped. When you assume that I might fly into a rage, you start caring." Lambdadelta tutted, and as she made her belongings vanish to Featherine's abode with a snap of her fingers, she slipped on her shoes and looked at her friend with a tiny smile on her face. "I do hope you can handle yourself when I'm gone. The witches around here tend to disregard you, and I do wish that you would have some sort of skill to give off a good impression of yourself. Your rank is a considerably good one, so live up to your expected reputation."

"Yes, of course. I will try my best." Beatrice curtsied in respect, but instead of thinking over what her senior had advised her to do like she always did, she was thinking about something else. The tense atmosphere reminded the Endless Witch of something that had happened in the past, and when she looked at her friend's face, it made her remember a tragic memory that had made her try and understand Lambdadelta even more than she should.

Two years.

It had been two years since Lambdadelta was absent from the council.

And that's all it took to completely change Lambdadelta for the worst.

Lambdadelta was the type of witch who believed in happy endings, love, compassion and joy. She would always look at the positive side of things with a cheeky grin to match, and being an experienced witch, Lambdadelta wasn't afraid of anything. Her games were masterfully handled, her connections were solid and her bright smile could encourage anyone who believed in her certainty. She brought hope to many, and instilled faith in the weak all just to achieve that sense of personal happiness in seeing others achieve their own happy endings and desired results. And even if things didn't work out, she'll just try again and again, being a witch who is certain of her own abilities. She wasn't someone who was selfish either, and when Beatrice was rather ostracized from the council, Lambdadelta was the one who had offered a hand to befriend and teach her. Lambdadelta found happiness in the little things in life, and she had hopes and dreams of her own.

Beatrice doesn't know all the details, but she knew that Lambdadelta went to master one of her own games and had to leave the Senate of Witches for a while. And right after that, it slowly occurred to the witches in the council that she wasn't present for two weeks. Then it escalated to a month, five months, almost a year, and being someone who had frequently spoken to Lambdadelta on a daily basis, Beatrice was naturally worried. Her friends didn't know where she went, her acquaintances couldn't contact her and even her abode was apparently empty. Two years had passed, and one day, the familiar sounds of little clicked heels made its way in the Senate of Witches, revealing it to be Lady Lambdadelta herself with a tired expression on her face.

_Everything changed from there on out._

For starters, Lambdadelta didn't smile that much anymore.

She rarely talked, unless it was necessary to.

Her sense of time was horribly distorted, and she didn't seem very aware of herself.

She became more ruthless, more cold, more knowledgeable.

In other words, the Lady Lambdadelta everyone knew never resurfaced again.

_'How time flies, how many centuries has it been?'_ the Witch of Certainty had asked. _'The Senate seems to still look the same after all those years.'_

The Endless Witch slowly came to know that a Logic Error had happened, and had tried speaking to Lambdadelta about it in an effort to alleviate her internal suffering, but it failed many times. It would take someone who had experienced a similar or worse fate than hers to fully understand, and she realized that she could do nothing to help her friend. The best that she could do is serve her whenever she was needed, and tried to be of service as much as possible to repay her senior's kindness, but Lambdadelta didn't need that from Beatrice at all. She needed nothing from nobody.

But when she smiled, looked at her friend and said the words, _'Thank you for confiding in me,'_ that was all it took to make Beatrice realize that she helped in a way.

It made her happy.

So she started confiding in Lambdadelta more, started to hone her skills and started to make herself into an independent witch.

A witch Lambdadelta would be proud of.

And a witch the little Princess would be proud of even more.

She will be an accomplished alchemy counselor, and she will drive herself to do so.

But apparently, that too required a long journey to partake.

Beatrice didn't mind, really. Knowledge is infinite, and as the Endless Witch, she would learn more and more as she matures. And when she thought she was doing all this just to make Lambdadelta a bit happier, it came to pass that she was doing it for herself instead. But in an ironic twist, it made Lambdadelta happier in a way, even though it's just a measly 1%, because she loved to see people work hard to aim for their goals. Assuring the younger witch that her Certainty would be with her, they found themselves to be closer than before, like inseparable best friends in a school. They were like equals, and treated each other as such sometimes.

And now, she's leaving again.

Everyone knew that Featherine Augustus Aurora's games were mind-scarring, and none of her opponents came back the same again.

Why was this happening?

She didn't deserve this.

She didn't want this.

She didn't-

"What are you doing just standing there, Beatrice?"

"A-ah...o-oh, did you want something, Lambdadelta?" Beatrice snapped out of her thoughts, quickly composing herself as the Witch of Certainty sighed and did her ribbons herself. Two small, dark pink ribbons tied at one of her strands of blonde hair on the right. Like usual. Nothing extravagant, since extravagant things pull her right to the ground, and she's already small to begin with. It was about time to leave, and knowing that she might not see her friend again for a long time, Lambdadelta took Beatrice's hands in hers and looked up at her with a senior-like air. Strict, commanding, yet gentle.

"Take care of yourself, okay? Don't end up to be an old hag like me," Lambdadelta smiled, standing on her tiptoes and patted Beatrice's hat-donned head. "You'll have to be on your own now, but keep working hard. You have a pupil to teach and a reputation to keep. Don't throw them away just because I'm not here. And I don't want you relaying information to me about the mechanics of Lady Aurora's game anymore. It's too risky, and I don't want you to get hurt."

"...Won't you let anyone help you, Lambdadelta?" Beatrice asked in a pained voice.

"Don't waste your life on a pitiful witch like me. It'll just bring you unnecessary pain." There was a whimsical giggle escaping Lambdadelta's lips, but it was apparently strained. It was pretty obvious that she didn't want to leave her behind either. Tears slowly formed in Beatrice's eyes, and when she attempted to hold them back, her face turned painfully red and her eyes stung. It hurt, it simply hurt, and the second hand on the clock didn't help either.

Three seconds to ten.

_She was going to lose her mentor, but she'll have to believe in her._

Two seconds to ten.

_She will lose her friend, but she'll have to hope that she's fine._

One second to ten.

_She will be alone again, but she'll have to be strong and take it upon herself to be more experienced so that she can teach the little Princess more efficiently._

Ten.

And all the Endless Witch could do was fall into the smaller witch's gloved arms and cry her heart out.

* * *

><p>The ceiling of the council's palace was glorious.<p>

As Lambdadelta stepped into the main hall along with her entourage following her from behind, she took a long look at it, smiling rather nostalgically to herself as she concluded that she'll never see such a glorious thing again in a long, long time. White marble pillars held up the ceiling, and the floors had a red carpet connecting to the two entrances of the hall. If one had looked down to the floor, it would give the impression that the person could be walking on an invisible floor in space, with all the tiny glittering stars moving right below you. The ceiling was far more glorious as it displayed various glass shards floating everywhere with the stars and the various planets in any given galaxy. Those glass shards were called _kakeras_, fragments to be more specific, and it seemed that the witches spectating the kakeras could be considered gods. The very sight of the ceiling could calm anyone's soul, due to the sheer beatific beauty of it.

At the sides of the path in the main hall stood the Head Inquisitor of Heresy of the 7th District Repentance Enforcement Agency of the Great Court of Heaven, Ronald A. Knox, his daughter Dlanor A. Knox and the rest of his underlings and subordinates. Ronald Knox stepped forward and bowed before Lambdadelta, who curtsied equally to return the respect. From the corner of her eye, she could see Beatrice and Dlanor stiffly trying to keep formalities while attempting to communicate at the same time, for they were quite close friends who enjoyed each other's company very much. It was rather amusing, since they were so childlike it was almost hearty to watch.

"Salutations, Lady Lambdadelta. It is an honor to be graced by your presence this morning," Ronald Knox spoke, keeping every formality necessary to address a respectable witch such as her.

"Good morning, Archbishop Knox. It is an utmost honor as well, and thank you for taking the time to see to this event although you are very occupied," she nodded, doing the same. "How did you come to know about this?"

The man chuckled to himself. "Oh, I have my sources, Lady Lambdadelta. When I had heard that two great witches are set to duel, I couldn't miss this opportunity, and you know how droll it gets when you're stamping things, stamping things, sealing things, approving things and sometimes even signing things, hahaha!"

Ronald Knox was a heavily built man, dressed in blue robes and a mighty sword sheathed at his right side. He was a man wise beyond his years, and very much respected by many. Although his department concerns the heavenly protocols, Ronald Knox was also in mutual terms with the Senate of Witches, which answers the question of how he came to know about the duel. His daughter, Dlanor was following his footsteps one by one, abiding by every teaching and instruction. The man who had created the Knox's Decalogue stood tall and mighty before Lambdadelta, who was much smaller than him until she had to nod instead of bothering to tiptoe up to his height level. Featherine Augustus Aurora and her entourage was at the other entrance of the hall, smiling as she beckoned the first ranked witch of the council, Lady Lucinda to announce their departure.

The brown-haired witch nodded and announced at the top of her lungs. "We are gathered here today to witness the departure of Lady Featherine Augustus Aurora and Lady Lambdadelta from the Senate of Witches. Witness and remember; such an event might never happen again in another lifetime! Wish them well; your blessings are esteemed and highly regarded!"

As the witches curtsied simultaneously, Lambdadelta and Featherine walked majestically towards the massive circle at the middle of the hall. As they faced each other, they extended their right arms as they generated an amount of magic powerful enough to conjure a _kakera_-shaped item, shining brightly as it held the ability to teleport them to Featherine's abode. Dlanor winced at the bright light, but she forced herself to witness it despite it practically stinging her eyes. Featherine looked at Lambdadelta with a satisfied smile, laughing softly to herself as she spoke.

"Good luck to you, Lady Lambdadelta. I do enjoy a fun competitor, and I do hope that you will try your best."

Lambdadelta merely looked at Featherine indifferently, but replied nonetheless. "Good luck to you as well."

The light intensified, engulfing both of their figures as the strong surge of power brought strong winds in the hall, and the witches had to brace themselves due to the immense amount of power. The two witches stood rigid as they concentrated their powers subconsciously, and as Beatrice shielded her eyes, she thought of attempting to look at her senior one last time. Lambdadelta too wanted to turn back and have one last look at everything around her, since she might not be back for a long time, or worse, not at all.

But they chose not to.

They both checked themselves and told themselves not to look back.

Because they were entrusted a task to finish, and looking back would mean that they choose not to look forward.

And they promised themselves that they will finish what they have started or entrusted.

* * *

><p>That was before everything happened.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Merry (belated) Christmas, everyone! :D

To those reading this fic: Thanks so much for reviewing and sharing your opinions! It's really great to know what you think of it, and thanks so much! And oh, oh, there's a little Ep 8 reference where Ronald Knox is saying "stamping things etc." :D If you're confused at the Virgilia/Lambda scenes, the relationship is strictly senior and junior, or _senpai_ and _kohai_. No romance whatsoever. Tee hee.

RATED M.

I don't own Umineko. This is fanmade. I don't own Ronald Knox either.

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	4. Wondered

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 4: Wondered_

"Out of the way! I was here first!"

"No, I was here first, you overweight, spoiled lump of lard!"

"THE CAKES ARE MINE! GET OUT!"

"Hey! I was here ever since! Both of you, get in line!"

"WHAT? You do realize that you're of a lower rank than me, don't you? Don't talk to your seniors like that, little girl!"

"Little girl? You're asking for it, aren't you?"

They were squabbling, wrestling and cursing one another as they fought their way to grab even a tiny crumb of the infamous confectioneries and delicacies served in the dining hall. As if the departing ceremony had never happened that morning, the witches of the Senate threw all caution to the wind once they had laid their eyes on the beautifully decorated cakes, cupcakes, muffins, breads, macarons and so on, so forth. But this case was a bit different, because most witches wouldn't run and fight over desserts unless it was made by _him_, that one particular person whose expertise was held in high regard. He wasn't even a person, a demon in fact, but if you would compare him to a gentleman, he would be around twenty-times far more respectable than any noble around him. Instead of looking grand and elegant, the witches now looked simply out of place in the dining hall with their torn gowns, tussled hair and minor scratches all over their faces. All they wanted was the desserts, more, not less. In the past, they used to form a line for his confectioneries, but it had been a very, very long time since his presence had graced the Senate's dining hall, so no one had bothered to make a line at all and just went with the 'first come, first serve' policy. And when the 27th ranked demon in the 72 pillars walked in the dining hall with his illustrious smile, the witches took their eyes off the food and flocked around him instead.

Of all the demons who had ever existed, Ronove was the most respected among witches and beings alike. He was everything a woman could ask for in a man; excellent cooking skills, superb etiquette, good looks and exceptionally good tea. One of the Great Demons in the 72 pillars, Ronove was a demon who stuck strictly to his principles and never wavers whenever his master instructs him to perform a task. It was an utmost privilege for a witch to employ him, and there must be a suitable compensation once he is under a witch's service. It applies for all demons who make a contract with a human or a witch; should they fail to give the required compensation, they could have the permission to end that human's life or strip a witch off her powers. No exceptions. Witches flocked around him like birds flocking around a loaf of bread on the floor, clad in their torn dresses while disregarding their ruined intricate hairstyles and scratches.

It really did amuse him, and he let himself laugh as demands for more confectioneries filled his ears. But he only came to the Senate of Witches to serve the food after the departing ceremony, and to visit a friend of his. Slinking himself away from the crowd, he walked towards the witch that he was looking for, who was standing by the window. And when Beatrice was too busy trying not to worry about Lambdadelta by drinking cups and cups of tea, he tapped her shoulder lightly, making her jump.

"Ah! O-Oh, it's just you, Ronove..." Beatrice blushed in embarrassment, quickly trying to regain her composure. "Good afternoon," she said formally, curtsying before him as he bowed before her equally to share respects. Ronove kissed her hand, and then decided to break formalities by moving into casual conversation.

"Good afternoon, Lady Beatrice. Are the confectioneries to your liking?"

"They're scrumptious, thank you," Beatrice smiled, nodding her head in approval. "Thank you so much for coming. Lady Hemera made an excellent choice when she had announced you as the caterer after the departing ceremony. How's the princess?"

Ronove merely chuckled. "Pu ku ku, is that so? I was hoping to come a bit earlier to see Lady Lambdadelta, but apparently she had already left with Lady Aurora. I even baked her favorite red velvet cupcakes just in case. Ah...that is regrettable indeed, Lady Beatrice. And the princess is alright, but she's rather hesitant at the fact that I'm leaving for the Senate without her, pu ku ku~"

Beatrice sighed, her face assumed a hopeless expression, just like the silvery locks of her hair. "Lady Lambdadelta would've been among those witches too if she were to be here now. I think all those cupcakes and tea would've been gone in three seconds at the least..."

Imagining Lambdadelta storming in the dining hall and leaping right towards the table full of red velvet cupcakes, wrestling along with those witches despite the weight of her incredibly ornate gown and screaming battle cries just like the rest made Beatrice giggle a bit. If she were here, she would do just that, and Beatrice could picture herself pulling her senior out with much difficulty. It sort of made Beatrice rather melancholy, but her train of thought was suddenly interrupted with Ronove's voice.

"She is truly a marvelous witch, isn't she?" Ronove smiled. "I don't wish to intrude, but I have been wondering about how Lady Hemera wasn't chosen to become Lady Aurora's opponent in the battle for succession. She is, after all, 33 ranks higher than Lady Lambdadelta, and it had made me think more than I should."

The Endless Witch turned in surprise, as if what he was saying made her realize something. "You're right...that is rather intriguing...Why did Lady Aurora-"

"Please keep your voice down, Lady Beatrice," Ronove reminded her. "We wouldn't want others to eavesdrop on us."

As quickly as she could, Beatrice put her teacup down on one of the tables and beckoned Ronove to a more quiet and private corner of the dining hall, to which it was guaranteed that no one could hear them. Once that was done, Beatrice proceeded to speak her suspicions.

"Continuing where I have left off. Why did Lady Aurora do that? Surely Lady Hemera is more powerful than Lady Lambdadelta herself?"

"Surely. The first ranked witch of the Senate is always the second most powerful witch in the universe, am I correct, Lady Beatrice?"

"But it makes no sense as to why Lady Aurora chose Lady Lambdadelta as her opponent!" Beatrice exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "There's got to be a reason, valid or not. It could be that Lady Aurora did that out of a whim..."

"Possibly," Ronove nodded. "Lady Aurora is famous for doing things solely for her own entertainment. All we can do is hope for the best for Lady Lambdadelta, but of course, she is a smart witch. She has one of the smartest minds I have ever known, in fact, pu ku ku. So I wouldn't worry so much about the Witch of Certainty, Lady Beatrice."

It was evident that Ronove was trying to soothe Beatrice's worries, but it did make both of them curious. Why wasn't the first ranked witch of the Senate chosen as Lady Aurora's opponent in her succession game? And as Beatrice had said, she could be more powerful, smart, cunning and experienced than Lambdadelta herself. What's with the sudden twist of events? What's going on in Lady Aurora's mind?

"Lady Lambdadelta did remind you not to worry so much, Lady Beatrice," Ronove coaxed her. "When Lady Lambdadelta comes back and sees you in this state, you could be scolded very harshly for your misconduct. So please don't worry so much, Lady Beatrice."

Beatrice _knew_ not to worry too much, and thanked Ronove for his concern. But in reality, it's really hard to do so.

Especially when you know that person might not come out alive.

* * *

><p>"Tea?"<p>

Lambdadelta looked at the elegant teacup resting on its saucer, inhaled the scent of the tea quietly and drank some. "Thank you."

Featherine smiled pleasantly as she poured herself a cup, making herself comfortable at the tea table in the main room of her infamous library. The scent of books lingered in the air, blending itself with the aroma of the black tea Featherine had conjured up earlier. It's been an hour since Featherine and Lambdadelta arrived in the infamous library of the Witch of Theatergoing and Spectating (to which most would just call 'The Library' for short), and if one were to enter it, they wouldn't know how to navigate themselves in the maze of bookshelves and doors that led to everywhere at once. Featherine had decided that they would just play in a large library full of droll, dull books that she had collected and compiled once upon a time instead of playing in an esteemed location where the entire world could see them play and yell barbarically whenever they were displeased. It was more quiet that way anyways. Solitude was always appreciated. A small, yellowish light would illuminate them and the small pillows on the floor would cushion them should they get tired or just decide to recline on something more comfortable. It was always rather dark in Featherine's main game room, and very, very secluded.

In addition to that, that respective game room was terribly _messy_ when Lambdadelta had first arrived. At least Featherine had the courtesy to clean it up, or Lambdadelta would've lost it on the spot. If Beatrice ever had her room like this (or worse, a quarter of it), there could be no telling how Lambdadelta would activate her rather hot temper at anything disorganized.

"I'm surprised that you didn't select Lady Hemera as your opponent," Lambdadelta spoke, looking at the red curtains that completely hid the windows that it adorned. "It is usually customary for the most powerful witch in the universe to select someone of her own level, and I'm afraid that I don't think that I measure up to your standards."

The Witch of Theatregoing merely smiled with amusement, unfazed at Lambdadelta's mild sarcasm. "Aaah, but I disagree, Lady Lambdadelta. You are a _very_ interesting and intriguing witch, and I wouldn't want you to think so little of yourself~ I could play this game with you for twelve or more centuries if I could and not get bored, hmm..."

"Oh, but I'm not belittling myself, Lady Aurora. I'm merely stating the facts."

"Oh my, that's uncalled for," Featherine giggled mildly, proceeding to pour more tea in Lambdadelta's cup. "In that case then, Lady Lambdadelta, why don't we drop the formalities and start addressing each other as equals? Wouldn't that be so much better? All that etiquette and mannerisms could be put aside~ Don't worry, I don't bite, unlike the past witches who are just so old, wrinkly, uptight, prudish and so on, so forth~"

"I did remind you that I dislike idle conversation, Lady Auror-"

"Featherine, if you may," the Witch of Theatregoing interrupted, totally not minding whatever Lambdadelta had said. "Unless that makes you feel uncomfortable as well, then you may refrain then. I'm merely trying to be a good host, Lady Lambdadelta, and I wonder what would make you feel at home in my library~" With that, Featherine did a childish shrug, sipping her tea nonchalantly. "Seeing that you seem to dislike so many things, get uncomfortable with most things, feel uneasy with anything at all..."

Lambdadelta couldn't stop thinking whether Featherine was doing this out of spite or out of sheer childish amusement. "Are you mocking me, Lady Aurora?"

"Of course not! How could you think of such a thing? I shouldn't be babbling so much, it just makes you more uneasy, no? And I don't want that, oh no. I don't want you to be uneasy about anything throughout the game, so I shall stop now. Is that to your liking, Lady Lambdadelta?"

"I won't say anything," the blonde-haired witch spoke in a low tone, clearly aggravated. It was rather amusing for Featherine, as most witches wouldn't dare to be so straightforward with her. They would usually hide their hatred in laces of sarcasm, and technically, Lambdadelta wasn't one of them. Just seeing her irritated face was simply so satisfying, so cute, so amusing to look at.

But she wanted more. Featherine wanted to expose every single thing that Lambdadelta ever had. She wanted to _crawl in her skin_, to_ feel everything_, to just _look at her whimpering and crying as her facade would be completely shattered into nothing_. Oh, the Witch of Certainty would look so pretty when she's delirious, wouldn't she? The farces would be broken, and Featherine just wanted to break her slowly, gently and ever so carefully, because Lady Lambdadelta is oh-so-fragile. It's not like witches face their Logic Errors head-on every day, so why miss out on the opportunity to play with such an interesting and beautifully broken opponent? That doll-like body, that no-nonsense attitude, that enigmatic personality...

She wanted it all.

Featherine wanted it all. Everything; her body, her heart, her soul. She would make such a beautiful possession.

But alas, it was hard. And that's what she liked about it; having Lambdadelta for herself is quite a challenge, and Featherine Augustus Aurora certainly loved a challenge.

"Alright then," Featherine sat up, putting on her best smile to at least sneak into Lambdadelta's good graces even just a little. "We shall begin with the cross-section of the game. It's supposed to be a game where the piece thinks on how to get out, as I have told you this morning, but we are the ones who will influence her surroundings. In order to win this game, you must draw up a line of logic describing how to reach the goal my _miko_ wants, which is to escape. If you give up, you lose~ Let's just think of it as a currently broken game of Backgammon, so as to not confuse yourself, Lady Lambdadelta."

It felt really good to hear something that was actually productive from Featherine's mouth. For Lambdadelta, it was a great wash of relief.

"May I analyze the situation first, Lady Aurora?" Lambdadelta asked, who in truth felt rather pleased at the fact that Featherine decided to tell her specifically what she had to do in the game. "It won't be...amusing for you if I play without knowing what is the actuality of the game, you see."

"Why of course," Featherine nodded, conjuring up the actual game itself.

The projection of the game appeared right above the tea table, prompting Lambdadelta to look up at it with observant eyes. Once again, she could see that the room was dark, and it was rather impossible to make out the shape of the room due to how dark it was. Graciously (or not), Featherine had made the figure of her_ miko_ visible to the other witch, but in tragic reality, the room would be completely dark if one were to put themselves in the blue-haired girl's shoes in there. One can't tell whether the room even had a door, or if it was just four walls towering above the poor girl. But Lambdadelta could still imagine the red drops of blood, the smell of death, the deafening sound of silence and the touch that had numbed over time. The _miko_ must have been cold, scared and fearful among those monstrosities tearing at her flesh, baring their fangs at her as if she had done something unforgivable.

_You must've been scared_, Lambdadelta thought as she looked at the seemingly lifeless-like body of the despairing girl. _You must've been trying so hard to get out, yet you can only do so much._

_I understand._

_You may give up, but I know that you won't. Everything will be against you. Your own master had turned against you too, but you're still hanging on with that last bit of hope you have left._

_...Just like I did._

_So please hang on, because I'll try my best too. I'll try my best to get you out of there._

Averting her gaze from the projection, Lambdadelta took a deep breath as she proceeded to talk to Featherine once more. "You seem to have a penchant for creating tragedies, don't you, Lady Aurora? The closed room is making me feel very tragic indeed, because all I can see is your Reader lying there on the ground." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but it sounded more like she was hiding her pent-up rage against her due to her actions. Featherine merely giggled, waving her hand dismissively.

"Perhaps you would like a handkerchief to wipe away your non-existent tears, Lady Lambdadelta~ Oh, see? I'm acting just like you! What do you think, Lady Lambdadelta? Is this an acceptable interpretation?" Featherine meant no malice really; she only wanted to poke fun at the incredibly stiff witch, but it seemed that it made Lambdadelta even more cross and irritated than before.

"I don't want to waste time, Lady Aurora," Lambdadelta gritted her teeth, showing a bit of her anger at Featherine's aloofness.

"Hahaha, alright then. As you can see, the room is completely dark, and all you have to do is to get her out of the room. Guess for now before making any theories. Make as many commands as you like. Say something like 'Pick up the item below you.' Easy enough, Lady Lambdadelta? Why don't you give the first try?"

Commands are mandatory when playing a game regarding a Logic Error. The first try's always a harmless command to most witches whenever they would play a game as easy as this one. There is an infinite possibility of items appearing in a closed room, but based on what Lambdadelta knew, there was nothing but blood, vermin, dripping water that hasn't been verified about its hygiene and the _miko_ herself. She has no choice but to make commands to come up with a theory on how she can escape the room. And from what Lambdadelta had understood, she was actually being a conscience for the _miko_ in a way, as her theories will whisper in the _miko's_ mind. To the _miko_, it would be like there is a voice in her head suggesting her to do what Lambdadelta had stated, but there is always a possibility that the _miko_ might not listen to them. And as for now, the heavy context of game rules hasn't been applied yet, so Lambdadelta will be pretty safe when she makes the first guess. Playing it safe as to not let the _miko_ get hurt any further, Lambdadelta surveyed the game before her and concentrated.

There's blood, vermin and water.

What can one do with that in a dark room?

"...Clean your wounds with the water."

* * *

><p><em>Clean your wounds with the water.<em>

The blue-haired girl's purple eyes snapped open in surprise at the sudden voice echoing in her head. Her entire bare body still ached all over, but at least she was woken up by the gentle yet firm voice that she had heard. Everything still looked black, everything still smelled rancid and the girl staggered to get up, looking around to see if there's anyone out there. The voice sounded strangely coaxing and gentle, and to be honest with herself, the _miko_ felt that it was one of the most calming voices she had ever heard during her time in there. It didn't sound like her master's voice; it sounded like someone else's.

But there was no one there.

"H-Hello?" she called, but there was only her echo waving back at her. This time, she called louder. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

No one.

The dripping water from the unseen ceiling of the room caught her eye, and as she walked towards it, she reached out her hand towards the water. It hurt excruciatingly when the liquid came in contact with her wounds, but the _miko_ found herself collecting the water using her two hands, cleansing her wounds as she gritted her teeth due to the pain. The water practically burned their way into her bloodied wounds, but she fought the pain as the water gradually cleaned her rather infected wounds. Repeating the process again, the _miko_ sighed as she suddenly realized something.

She had the energy to clean her wounds.

She wasn't shuddering that much anymore.

But that was the most she could do, and as the _miko_ ceased cleaning her wounds, she knocked out as soon as she woke up.

* * *

><p>Oh.<p>

Of all things, _that's_ what she did first.

Featherine was rather surprised at Lambdadelta's first command, which was rather unexpected coming from a witch like her.

Most witches would head in straight into the game, but it seems that Lambdadelta cares more for the pieces's well-being. It was a smart move, since the pieces must have energy to carry on with activities. As Lambdadelta reclined against her chair, Featherine glanced at the dissolving projection of the game with amused eyes. Clapping her hands, Featherine got up from her seat as she walked towards Lambdadelta's, supporting herself by putting her gloved hand on the table while leaning dangerously close to Lambdadelta. The Witch of Certainty immediately had her guard up, ready to take action if Featherine wished to strike her out of dissatisfaction.

"W-What are you doing?" Lambdadelta asked harshly, but she was cut off with the mere presence of Featherine's face just three centimeters away from hers. The Witch of Drama smiled coyly, tutted and did something that completely took Lambdadelta off guard.

Featherine rested her hands on Lambdadelta's shoulders and licked the behind of her ear, slowly and sensually.

The Witch of Certainty could only widen her eyes in shock, and a light tint of pink could be seen adorning her cheeks. Featherine didn't budge at all from where she had licked, and instead reveled at Lambdadelta's reaction. She didn't need to look at it; she already knew. Oh, how tantalizing she seemed right now, and it was really, really hard to resist just having the Witch of Certainty completely hers. The sheer euphoria simply shot a wave of excitement in Featherine, and Lambdadelta really couldn't comprehend what just happened. Featherine then moved a tiny bit to whisper in Lambdadelta's ear, and even that was hard.

"Beautiful start, Lady Lambdadelta," she breathed in the Witch of Certainty's ear, causing her eyes to widen more. "Beautiful, beautiful start."

* * *

><p>Depends on your point of view, really.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I bet all of you are confused, xD. Don't worry, I am too, xD

This game is NOT AT ALL LIKE UMINEKO. No red, no blue. It's merely like the games where you command a character to do something, and they'll either do it or not. If they do it, you win (depending on your smarts), but if they don't, you lose (or in a stroke of luck, you'll win too). So in here, this is just preliminary, and the next few chapters will hopefully be explainable to all of you, xD.

Thanks for reading! I don't own Umineko, this is fanmade.


	5. Commenced

_The initial analysis of the game was concluded, as well as the day that supplemented its time to it._

_The two witches dismissed themselves for the day to get some rest, and Lambdadelta found herself in one of the numerous guest rooms in the maze-like library, trying to get some sleep on the majestically decorated queen-sized bed. It was a very elaborately decorated room; gold curtains adorned the numerous windows, the room space was more than she can handle and almost everything she needed in a bedroom was in there. A dressing table, a large closet, a tea table, and it was as if this room was prepared especially for her. However, despite the softness of the mattress and the pillows of the bed, Lambdadelta really couldn't bring herself to sleep at all no matter how she tried. She doesn't even know how much time she had wasted just by opening and closing her eyes again and again, and Lambdadelta really hates wasting time._

_Maybe it was because she couldn't understand the reason behind the fact that Featherine Augustus Aurora had licked her ear._

_Lambdadelta usually wouldn't react to provocations (ever since the Logic Error happened), but this was a drastic exception. The feeling of Featherine's gloved fingers on her shoulders gripping her gently yet possessively, the feeling of Featherine's tongue licking oh-so-slowly behind her ear and the feeling of Featherine's hot breath against her skin couldn't escape Lambdadelta's memory no matter how she tried. She could still remember how it felt even though it's been hours since it happened, and to be honest, the jolts of shock that Lambdadelta had felt that very moment felt very unsettling and uncomfortable. The way Featherine held her, the way she conducted her actions, the way she spoke into her ear in such a quiet, low yet sharp tone; it was all very unnerving. And what's worse, the entire thing made Lambdadelta horrifyingly confused._

_She hates being confused, because it's equivalent to being unable to understand. But the question was, why was she thinking too much of it?_

_Because it shook her more than it should have._

_For some reason, it unnerved her more than it should have. The monstrosities of the Logic Error that she had experienced should have been more frightening, more fearful, but there was something about Featherine that really made her feel rather unsafe. Lambdadelta used to think that Featherine was merely an eccentric witch who did certain things that might have displeased others (and even the whimsical decision of throwing her miko in a Logic Error seemed very much like her character, when one comes to think about it), but after what had recently happened, Lambdadelta wasn't sure whether that was a whimsical act anymore. There were too much emotions-no, there was only one emotion at that moment, and it was insanely suffocating. It would feel the same as being strangled slowly while struggling for breath in order to survive. Featherine held her like a porcelain doll; being so careful as to not drop her or release her lest she might break, but her pincer-like fingers clutched onto Lambdadelta's shoulders until there were light red marks on her pale skin._

_Naturally, Lambdadelta had felt immensely aggravated, humiliated and confused, but she chose not to give away any more reactions asides from her slightly blushing face and her widening eyes as bodily reflexes. She still has her pride and dignity, and Lambdadelta refused to give away any signs of weakness at all. If Featherine wanted to play games with her like this (actually, she wasn't very certain whether Featherine was playing or not though), she will not permit it as long as there is business to take care of. Lambdadelta is a witch; a being with wondrous powers, a being who was constantly relied on by many, and an esteemed being who held the title of 'Lady'._

_But even so, nothing seemed straight to her anymore. She can't understand the logic behind Featherine's earlier actions, no matter how hard she tried. It was horribly unsettling; the fact that you can't comprehend something just scares you and angers you at the same time._

_Lambdadelta felt confused._

_Terribly confused._

_And she hated it._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mendacium Speculorum<em>**

_Chapter 5: Commenced_

There were two cups of tea at both sides of the table in the game room.

Lambdadelta had always wondered why tea was the trademark drink of witches, because she didn't like it very much herself. The overall taste was appetizing, but she hated that aftertaste that felt like she was partially dehydrated in the span of 2 minutes after drinking it down. Despite the fact that tea was some sort of an esteemed drink that only witches and noble beings could drink, the Witch of Certainty's tastes wandered somewhere else, probably wishing that she had gotten a glass of water instead of _yet another_ cup of tea. And as Lambdadelta stoically stared at the game projection before her, Featherine was still wearing that saccharine smile of hers which never left her face since the day before.

The Witch of Drama was of course, very hard to comprehend.

Maybe too hard to comprehend.

But to Featherine, the Witch of Certainty was the incomprehensible one. As her eyes studied the surly witch, Featherine applauded Lambdadelta in her heart at her success in maintaining the convincing facade of a witch who couldn't care less about anything in the universe, much at what had happened the day before. And Lambdadelta truly looked like a pretty doll; purple bows on her equally purple gown, a matching choker and a stern expression to match her doll-like face. It would be nice to have her chained up and broken in Featherine's private chambers, responding to nothing but to whatever Featherine says or does, and it would be so delightful to see the Witch of Certainty reduced to such a beautifully pitiful state. Then again, Lambdadelta would look beautiful to Featherine no matter what her condition is.

"Did you have a good night's rest, Lady Lambdadelta?" Featherine asked, exercising her hospitality to the only being who she had deemed worthy of it. "If there is anything that you are dissatisfied with, you can tell me. I can replace them right away for you if you'd like."

Lambdadelta drank a bit of the tea, eventually concluding that she needed any form of liquid in her throat anyways. "I slept well, thank you."

A small giggle escaped Featherine's lips, who was clearly amused at Lambdadelta's dry, strict tone. "I'm pleased to hear that. It would be a blow to my hospitality if you aren't satisfied with your own room, and I will feel very regretful that I have failed in providing the best for the Witch of Certainty, aaah...But it is a pleasure to know that you are satisfied with everything, Lady Lambdadelta~"

"I wouldn't want to waste any more time, if it is alright with you," Lambdadelta pointed out. "And I would appreciate it very much if you would care to explain further about the game. We have already covered the cross-section and the layout, but it seems that we've been doing nothing but waste more time on such trivial conversation. And I have noticed that you haven't been telling me everything about the game, so I would like a straight answer right _now_."

Featherine only smiled wider. Tilting Lambdadelta's chin upwards in a very careful yet nonchalant manner with her slender fingers, she then proceeded to speak.

"Ah, that is impressive! But I must know, how did you know that I_ didn't tell you everything_?"

There was_ it._

There was _that_ look again.

That _disturbingly suffocating_ look again.

"You never tell the full context of your games in front of the Senate," Lambdadelta answered with a rather dry frown on her face. "One of your infamous tricks in making your opponents lose to you is by making them think that they know the entirety of the game based on what you have explained to them in the Senate beforehand. I don't think that I need to say anything more about it, so I will refrain from adding on."

Aah, that was a good observation.

"Oh my, did it seem that way to you, Lady Lambdadelta?~" Featherine giggled, letting go as Lambdadelta frowned further out of impatience. "Then I am terribly sorry if you had thought of me that way. Instead of trying to clear my name, I won't delay it any longer and get straight to the point. Is that what you had wanted, Lady Lambdadelta?"

"It would be easier on the both of us if you do so."

"Mm, that is true," the Witch of Drama nodded, clapping her hands together. "It has been a while since I have dug up this game. But not to worry, I remember the rules of this game by heart, so I will proceed to tell you everything that you need to know." With that, Featherine cleared her throat, and Lambdadelta prepared herself to listen closely to catch any hidden details beneath the Witch of Drama's smooth words.

"Please take note that the game is currently unsolvable," Featherine advised with a smile, then continued speaking as she laid back against her rocking chair.

"The game originally began with a piece in a locked room," Featherine began, conjuring up a tiny white chess piece. "The piece must then try to get out of the room using the limited items the room has, which leads the piece to another room once she has escaped the first one. Once she has successfully escaped all of the rooms, she must then make her way to the bottom of the tower that holds all the rooms that she had been locked in and exit the tower.

"There are a few locations in the game; the locked rooms, the Hall of Stairs, and the tower. The game locations are based on the City of Books itself," to which she giggled softly at the very mention of her abode, "so I can say that the game is pretty large in terms of interior design. Originally, the game starts in the locked room as I have told you, and it still does, but the Logic Error slowly surfaced at the supposed end of the game."

"The supposed end?" Lambdadelta arched her eyebrow, slowly getting interested in the explanation of the game.

"It didn't become an end anymore, so to say," the Witch of Drama smiled in amusement. "In fact, something went wrong towards the end, and from there, the game became looped. The end went back to the beginning straight away, and the cycle repeats itself again and again."

"What do you mean?"

"Throughout the piece's attempts to escape, there is something that is following her. It will follow her everywhere she goes without fail, and when she reaches the exit...let's just say that I didn't think through the entire game when that happened. Apparently, I found out much, much later that there was a tiny mishap in the game where the piece has a doppelganger of herself, which, well, _takes the piece's place and loops back to where the game starts: in the locked room_. Like a nice game of cat and mouse, the original piece and the doppelganger will constantly pursue each other with the doppelganger_ having the main objective to kill its original_."

From the insides of her mind, Lambdadelta was trying to put the pieces together with the current information she has. "And the Logic Error happened when you couldn't find or create a fitting end, is that correct?"

"With the original and the doppelganger switching places during each cycle, yes," Featherine nodded. "The only way to break the Logic Error is for the piece, which is currently my _miko_, to successfully escape the loop by killing the doppelganger. But it seems impossible at this point...which is why I have chosen such a game for our duel. No Knox, no Dine. Fair, unless contradicted."

It's almost impossible. There are no loopholes: everything is there. There is no mystery yet it seemed like one, but everything was already explained.

So the game isn't a mystery at all. It's all mixed up.

_Twisted_, as Lambdadelta puts it in her mind.

"Would you like me to commence the game, Lady Lambdadelta?" Featherine smiled, offering her gloved hand for Lambdadelta to accept as part of the private commencing ceremony of the game. It was a simple gesture of acceptance, and Lambdadelta reached out her hand to accept Featherine's gesture.

"I will try to solve this twisted, unorganized game you came up with, so we might as well commence it right now," the blonde-haired witch stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Featherine gleefully laughed. "Well, if you say so, Lady Lambdadelta~ I'm pleased that you would want to use your efforts on such a poorly organized game~"

With that very action, papers started flying around the room and a gust of wind blew in the game room, activating the magic that would commence the game in full and to inform the Senate that the game has started.

The game has commenced.

* * *

><p>Blood. Vermin. Water.<p>

More blood. More vermin. Less water.

The blue-haired _miko_ waited and waited, hugging her knees as the only things illuminating the dark and almost inescapable room were the glowing eyes of the rats. She was scared; if she moved, they'll attack, if she stared at them too long, they'll bite off her flesh and worsen her condition. It was bad enough that she couldn't move (more accurately, can't move), but she really needed to escape the room.

Even if it's just one more time. She almost made it.

If only there would be another chance for her to escape...

_Good morning._

At once, her eyes widened as she heard the voice again. Looking around her, the miko realized that it was the same voice that spoke to her the day before in her head, and attempting to make herself presentable to her own delusions (in her own poor perspective since she was left alone for so long), she cleared her throat and spoke as softly as she could.

"H-Hello...?" the miko spoke, trying not to arouse the attention of the rats, if they even bothered.

_You can stand, can't you?_

"U-um...I..."

_Try to stand. Now don't worry about the rats devouring you. Can you see anything in the room?_

"N-No...but there are the eyes...from the rats..." the blue-haired miko trembled. "W-Who are you...?"

_I'm your Master's new opponent._

"M-Master's new opponent...?"

The _miko's_ mind started working all of a sudden. Her Master is playing with a new opponent? That means...maybe she is the opponent that her Master told her about? Maybe she is the opponent who is playing against her Master for the title of the most powerful witch in the world?

_Yes. You said something about eyes, right?_

"Y-Yes..."

_Gather the rats in one place._

"W-What?"

It seemed rather impossible for the _miko_. How can she gather the vermin in one place without them scratching and biting her half to death?

"W-Why should I listen to you?" the _miko_ retorted rather angrily. "Why should I listen to someone whom Master wants to fight against-"

_Because if you don't listen, you'll end up rotting here. _

The voice didn't sound at all angry, but it sounded as if it was calmly telling her the facts. Reproaching, even. The voice was even gentler than her Master's, but a wave of doubt began to wash over the blue-haired _miko_. If she doesn't listen, she will end up rotting there for all she knows, with all her wounds gaping open, but if she listens...

What will happen if she listens?

The_ miko_ then found herself running, and as the vermin lunged towards her, she took hold of a rat and started swinging. Frantically searching for an exit, the rats started chasing her, and true to her theory, their glowing eyes slightly illuminated the room, and at last, she found a silhouette of a doorknob. Throwing the rat towards the rest of the vermin, she twisted the doorknob, but she found it was locked.

'I-It's locked!' she panicked.

The rats started closing in, but the _miko_ took a risk and elbowed the door open, proceeding into the next room and locked the door shut, and to her surprise, the door vanished and became a wall. Panting, she slumped down, and when she raised her head to look around, she nearly gasped in disbelief.

It was another room.

* * *

><p>We all look at things in our own perspectives anyways.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I have updated ^^ This chapter mainly serves to explain the game in further detail, and I'm really sorry if Bern seems too OOC here . A-And there's not much Featherine/Lambda here either...oh no...I think I failed ;A; But thank you so much for reading and reviewing :'D Please keep them coming and if you're unsure, you can ask ^^

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	6. Investigated

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 6: Investigated_

"May I be so bold to ask," little Dlanor A. Knox inquired her friend, Willard H. Wright, "as to how are you much taller than me even though you are only older than me by two YEARS?"

Ronald Knox's only daughter and the successor to the title of Chief Inquisitor of the SSVD were in Beatrice's quarters in the Senate, munching their cakes as they sat at the tea table. Two glasses of milk and two slices of chocolate cake were served to the two of them, and Dlanor wasn't very happy. There was a rather displeased frown on Dlanor's face, mainly at the fact that the boy in front of her had gotten taller than her during his time training in the SSVD. Will merely swallowed his cake, looked at Dlanor's petite face and shoved his glass of milk towards her direction, wiping his mouth with the cloth that he was given.

"You grew two inches, Dlanor," Will pointed out. "If you're still not happy, I guess you can have my glass of milk here."

"But I don't like MILK," she pouted. "It tastes STRANGE."

"Look Dlanor, if you don't drink milk, you might not grow at all," he sighed. "You do want to be taller, right? I mean, you can't stay jealous at me forever and not get back at me, you know."

"I can boldly say that milk alone won't support my GROWTH. Beatrice did say that if I eat more, I will grow much, much taller than YOU. And when I am taller," to which Dlanor folded her arms crossly, "you won't make fun of me anymore, WILL."

"So what did you eat that made you two inches taller?" Will asked teasingly, setting his fork down. The preteen successor got up, ruffled Dlanor's hair and grinned. "I don't think you eat much either, maybe you just took a lot of naps?"

"Please refrain from ruffling my hair, WILLARD. I spent a lot of time styling IT. And specifically, I eat FISH."

"_Good_ girl," Will smiled mockingly, pointing at the said glass of milk that he had passed to Dlanor earlier. "So try something new. Milk."

Dlanor was not at all pleased.

"Beatrice," she pouted, looking at the Endless Witch with a rather irritated expression. "Will won't stop pestering ME."

The silver-haired with merely giggled, walking towards Dlanor with an amused smile on her face. Putting her hand comfortingly on Dlanor's shoulder, Beatrice poured herself a glass of milk and downed it down in the span of five seconds for the girl to see. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, Beatrice lightly smiled once again and gave a satisfied sigh.

"See? I'm still alive," the Endless Witch joked. "Everyone has to try new things in life, and if you don't want to try it now, it's alright too. You can take your time."

"Lady Lambdadelta doesn't like milk EITHER."

Beatrice was rather taken aback by her younger friend's sudden statement, and then laughed a little as she remembered the times when Lambdadelta looked as if she was constipating while drinking it. "How did you know that?"

"She makes faces whenever she drinks IT. Normally she doesn't make any expressions, but she looks particularly funny when she drinks MILK. I don't know why she drinks it if she doesn't like it in the first PLACE," Dlanor states in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Lady Lambdadelta always does that," Will raised his eyebrow rather aristocratically. "I think she's naturally grumpy. Pretty soon, she might get wrinkles all over her face and look exactly like Lady Hemera or something."

"That is DISRESPECTFUL."

"Not like I care. She'll end up being an old hag anyways."

"Will, be polite," Beatrice chided. "Just try once more, Dlanor? One sip won't hurt," the Endless Witch said in a comforting tone.

"I...will give it a TRY. Just one little SIP," Dlanor sighed, admitting defeat as she took the glass of milk in her hands and proceeded to drink it hesitantly. Tasting the milk, Dlanor immediately put the glass away, grimacing at the weird aftertaste. Will ended up howling with laughter, and Dlanor's irritation increased as Will kept on laughing.

"WILLARD!"

"T-That was just too funny! Ahahahahaha!"

As Beatrice tried to cease Will's taunts, she waited for something, just anything to happen. It was getting too quiet in the Senate, and even though Lambdadelta had told her not to investigate anything, Beatrice couldn't help but wait for something. For that, she privately spoke to Ronove to help her for that matter, and miraculously, he had decided to help much to her relief. So it really wasn't surprising when Beatrice gasped in shock when she heard a knock on the door of her quarters and rushed to the door as if her life nearly depended on it.

It was Ronove.

"Good evening, Lady Beatrice," he bowed respectfully. "I have some news."

Beatrice nodded, but she tried to keep herself as composed as possible. The two preteens from Heaven stopped their bickering and laid their eyes on Ronove, to which they got down from their seats and rushed to the demon butler excitedly. Ronove ended up chuckling, and Beatrice had to get them to play at another corner of the room so that she and Ronove could have their conversation privately. Once that was done, Ronove took an envelope from his coat pocket and passed it to Beatrice slowly.

"What is this?" Beatrice picked up the envelope, examining its outer contents. "Shall I open it?"

"Not yet," Ronove replied, drinking his tea. "Lady Lambdadelta had passed this to me secretly before her departure to give it to you."

The envelope had two seals: the seal of the Senate and Lambdadelta's personal seal. It suddenly dawned onto Beatrice that Lambdadelta might not be able to write to her from the City of Books, so she took her letter opener and opened the letter, unfolding the paper rather hurriedly due to her curiosity as to what the letter might hold. Her palms were sweaty as she inelegantly gripped the paper in anxiety, causing the paper to crumple.

All of a sudden, Beatrice's anxiety converted into the puzzling feeling of confusion.

"What is the matter, Lady Beatrice?" Ronove asked, feeling rather curious himself. Looking at the back of the letter and re-examining the envelope, Beatrice looked for something, anything even, that contradicted what she had thought that she had seen. In a low, confused tone, Beatrice looked at Ronove and showed him the letter.

"There's nothing written on it...!"

True to her statement, there was nothing written or printed on that folded piece of paper. No words, no letters, and definitely no other marks on it. It was just a blank piece of paper that had been folded without anything on it, to which the two of them started questioning themselves and thinking of various possibilities as to why Lambdadelta had sent a blank piece of paper.

But as Beatrice shook the paper when she showed it to Ronove, a tinkling sound echoed in the room, loud enough for the two of them to hear it.

From the corner of Beatrice's eye, she saw Will curiously walking towards her direction while looking down at the floor, crouching as he picked something up. Standing up, he took the tiny object that he found in his hands and started examining it with a puzzled look. Then, he grinned, took the object up and spoke proudly.

"Ah, it's the key to Lady Lambdadelta's quarters!"

Dlanor huddled over, shocked at what Will had discovered. "H-How do you know, WILL?"

"Can't you see, Dlanor?" Will messed Dlanor's hair further. "See this? This," to which he pointed at the top of the key, "is Lady Lambdadelta's personal seal, isn't it? Isn't it, Lady Beatrice? Every witch has their own custom made key for their quarters, and _this_ is definitely Lady Lambdadelta's because her seal is constructed on it! And look, there's her signature:'_Semper Certus_'!"

"W-What is it doing here...?" Beatrice found herself saying, and as Will placed the key in her hand, her mind raced everywhere. Ronove took her hand, closed it to form a fist and threw the envelope and the paper in the fire.

"You should keep it safe, Lady Beatrice," Ronove spoke quietly. "Lady Lambdadelta must have given it to you for a reason, and you should keep it safe. From now on, we must be very careful because the game has already commenced, and we must be watchful."

"All the letters must be burnt once read. Not even one will be kept," she spoke in a strangely commanding manner, as if their very conversation could endanger them all. "And no one must say anything about this, do you understand?" Beatrice then looked at the two heavenly preteens, to which Dlanor's curiosity nearly got the better of her at the mysterious order.

"What is happening, Lady BEATRICE?"

The atmosphere grew tense as Dlanor managed to mouth her question, and even Will was waiting for Beatrice's response at the question. Truly, everything wasn't as it used to be anymore, and even the young ones sensed it. Danger, suspicion and deceit were all around the Senate, and ever since the succession game started, everything seemed to be wrong. Witches started getting uneasy, Readers started spreading tales about the random places in the Senate and the Heavenly court couldn't help but worry about everything that seemed to be going on. Beatrice couldn't bring herself to say her deductions and theories aloud, and it certainly wasn't the right time. She herself didn't know what was happening, and for her to voice out was extremely dangerous.

"I...I don't know, Dlanor..." Beatrice finally said, resting her head on her hand as she breathed in deeply, clutching Lambdadelta's key in her other hand. Dlanor decided to respect her friend's decision, however, Will did not. Being the impatient person he was, he stood his ground and started voicing out his opinions without any regard for anything.

"There's something you're hiding, isn't it, Lady Beatrice?" Will asked coldly. "Just like everybody."

"Everybody...?"

"_Don't play dumb!_" the future Chief Inquisitor thundered, stamping his foot on the ground. "All of you witches gossiping everywhere with your fans and your dresses and your Readers, just stop it! It's sickening,_ sickening_, **sickening**! You witches never tell us anything, nor take anything seriously! You witches know what's going on, but you just don't want to tell us! Are you taking Dlanor and I for fools?" Will clenched his fists, voicing out his raw opinion.

Then, Dlanor went up to Will, put her tiny hands on his fists and began to speak.

"She doesn't KNOW. You must not force her to speak of something she does not KNOW. Please understand that these are difficult times, and that Beatrice does not want to ridicule US."

"Dlanor!" he thundered, but she stood her ground.

"Stop, WILL. This is my final WARNING."

Will hesitantly looked at Dlanor, then at Beatrice, and finally sighed. He knew that he couldn't go against Dlanor; Dlanor was a formidable girl in her own right, and he didn't want to get in her bad side. Nevertheless, even without Dlanor's intervention, Will could tell that Beatrice really didn't know, and he mildly regretted his earlier outburst. Begrudgingly bowing his head, he subjected himself to apologize to the Witch of the Infinite.

"...I apologize. Forgive me for my misconduct, Lady Beatrice," Will finally apologized. "My temper got the better of me, and it is very inappropriate."

"It's alright. I'm sorry that I can't tell the three of you anything else but to be careful..."

From the corner of his eye, Ronove looked at the golden key in Beatrice's hands as he poured more tea in her teacup. It was baffling; why would Lambdadelta give Beatrice the key to her quarters? The interior of a witch's quarters holds many secrets, and the last thing a witch would do is to give the key to her quarters to another witch. And yet, there was no mistaking it: it was Lambdadelta's key, and it was intended for Beatrice to keep. The complicatedly designed seal (which consisted of loops and intricate designs) accompanied with the words '_Semper Certus_' engraved on the key further confirmed that it was the Witch of Certainty's key.

_Semper Certus_, always sure. Always certain.

Beatrice couldn't think. Lambdadelta did tell her to stop investigating the mechanics of Lady Aurora's game, but the game had already commenced and...and...

...Wait.

The only things she had investigated were the rules...and the layout...

That's...about it.

Beatrice remembered that there might be more to be investigated, and if she pursued her investigations further she might be taking a great risk. She had honored Lambdadelta's wishes to stop looking into the game, but with the current happenings in the Senate and the fact that Lambdadelta had given her key to her, it had heightened her curiosity and her anxiety even more. Clutching Lambdadelta's key for dear life, Beatrice shut her eyes as tightly as she could and bit her lip, trying very hard not to shake with nervousness and fear.

'_What are you planning..._?' she thought, gritting her teeth as she felt the sharp edges of the key against her skin.

* * *

><p>"It's another room," Lambdadelta stated, clearly unimpressed.<p>

"Oh, not so," Featherine smiled in an amused manner, as if she was talking to a beloved child. "Watch."

Slowly, the room brightened up a little as the darkness turned a bit brighter, becoming a long corridor instead. Looking at the corridor, Lambdadelta arched her eyebrow as she looked at the _miko's_ equally confused face, her eyes wandering everywhere as she stood rigid out of instinct. There were no doors at the walls, but there was only one way out: straight. That was the only direction the _miko_ can go at. Straight.

"There are no hidden doors," Featherine explained. "As you can see, the only way out is straight."

Lambdadelta merely kept quiet as she looked at the glowing end of the corridor straight ahead in the game projection. The miko didn't move, and the Witch of Certainty struggled to think of what to do next. There might be traps hiding somewhere, anywhere, and if the miko ends up dead or mutilated Lambdadelta truly will be the laughing stock in the Senate when she loses the game due to measly traps. Reaching to take her cup of tea, Lambdadelta sipped a bit of it until she suddenly heard something and stopped drinking at once.

She heard someone laughing softly.

And it wasn't Featherine.

Apparently, the _miko_ heard it too, judging by her shocked expression.

Featherine smiled as she saw both of them froze at their spots. Lambdadelta didn't make it that obvious, but Featherine could sense that she was rather alarmed. The laughter got closer and closer, and the _miko's_ eyes wildly looked around the corridor, too scared to make a move.

"_...Run_," Lambdadelta commanded, to which the miko's eyes widened.

"R-Run?" the _miko_ exclaimed. "Are you crazy?"

"_Run,_" the Witch of Certainty quietly repeated. "_I need to check something._"

"Just because you're my Master's opponent, that doesn't mean you can boss me aro-"

"_I said run_," Lambdadelta firmly stressed on her syllables in such a way that made the _miko_ fall silent at once.

Without a word, the miko ran towards the light, her long, blue hair wildly being swept by the wind as she ran. Anxiously waiting for what was to come, Lambdadelta gripped the armrests of the chair with her fingers while maintaining a straight face, not wanting Featherine to see through her anxiety. Featherine merely looked at the projection with a small smile, raised her right hand and put up three fingers, to which she counted aloud to herself.

"Three."

The _miko_ ran for her life, extending her arm to the glowing exit of the corridor.

"Two."

The laughter grew louder and louder, and the _miko_ ran as fast as she could.

"One," the Witch of Drama finished, this time her hand balled up into a fist since she had put down a finger for each count.

And to Lambdadelta and the _miko's_ surprise, the supposed 'exit' of the corridor became the main hall of the City of Books itself.

The hall was unmistakably identical to the City of Books. The floor was made out of pure marble, and when the miko took a step, her bloodied feet stained the marble that she walked on. Shelves and shelves of books were everywhere around the circular hall, and to the _miko_, the interior of the hall was her greatest relief. Statues of angels and portraits of great witches were everywhere in the hall as crepuscular rays of light shone upon the hall through the dome-shaped roof, illuminating the glorious hall as the _miko_ thought that somehow, she escaped the game.

"I...I..." the miko gasped, looking at the portraits of the witches dressed in elaborate gowns as she tried to catch her breath. "A-Am I b-back...?"

And as soon as she uttered those words, her attention directed to something else in the room. It was at the center of the hall, to which she ran towards it to inspect what it was. Touching the object carefully, she became bewildered again as she decided to ask the voice in her head, wanting to confirm what she had just touched.

"I-Is this a typewriter?"

"_Of course it's a typewriter,_" Lambdadelta responded snappily, but she tried to get a closer look. "What is she supposed to do with this?"

Featherine clapped her hands happily like a child being amused at something. "Ah, I see that she's found the typewriter. Why don't you try asking her to type on it?"

Warily, Lambdadelta eyed the typewriter, wondering if it's some sort of trap. "What will happen if she does?"

"Depends," Featherine yawned. "There are two possible outcomes anyways. Why don't you try it out for yourself? Go on, give the command: _Type_."

"I'll find out anyways even if you're not telling me, so I'll give it a go then," the Witch of Certainty clicked her tongue. "_Type._"

From the projection, the miko froze, looking at the typewriter as if it was some sort of alien object. To Featherine, it was truly funny to see her _miko_ staring at the typewriter with her mouth half open and with the trail of blood on the marble floor behind her, but to Lambdadelta, it was suspenseful.

Horrifyingly suspenseful.

"_...What's wrong? Type,_" Lambdadelta repeated, to which the _miko_ responded back.

"I...I don't know how to read these...at all..." her trembling voice echoed in the hall.

It was Lambdadelta's turn to freeze.

"_...Just try to type. Anything._"

Trembling, the _miko_ extended her arm to touch the keys of the typewriter,

slowly pressed random keys

and felt a hand

covering

her

mouth.

* * *

><p>And as the<em> miko<em> suffocated, she found her legs running towards_ herself._

* * *

><p>"Lady Aurora," Lambdadelta slammed her teacup against her saucer, clearly not tolerating such antics any longer. "You WILL tell me what's happening, and you WILL explain things to me. Don't go back on your word."<p>

Lackadaisically, Featherine yawned as she pointed at the game projection. "But Lady Lambdadelta, this is only the beginning! I did explain everything to you, and as I have said, it had happened. What were you expecting, or rather, what weren't you expecting just now? That?" With that, Featherine laughed whimsically, to which Lambdadelta bit her tongue in order to control her pent up rage and frustration. The Witch of Drama was certainly getting on her nerves, and Lambdadelta nearly crushed the porcelain cup she was holding.

"Explain. Now," the Witch of Certainty hissed.

"Ah, you're no fun~" the Witch of Drama sighed, getting up from her signature rocking chair as she walked up to Lambdadelta's side, pointing at the projection as if she was teaching a little child. "That is the start of the game. All this while when I was searching for a suitable opponent for my position, my _miko_ had been trapped in the locked room for ages with no one to play with her...poor little thing. As I have said, a doppelganger will be following her, and guess what she just did?"

_What did happen_, Lambdadelta thought to herself, but as she widened her eyes in realization, she whirled and looked at Featherine with astonishment.

"The doppelganger switched with her," she found herself saying.

"Correct~" Featherine smiled. "Now the thing is, how do we stop this? That's where the game starts~ Not very easy, that's for sure, and it caused the Logic Error anyways. What were your first thoughts of the game, Lady Lambdadelta?~"

What did she think?

She did conclude that it wasn't a mystery due to the strange nature of the game, so technically that wasn't the-

...Wait.

Well, this turned out _very_ well.

It IS a mystery, because now, Lambdadelta has to find out how to stop the loop. Also, there's the question of the origin of the doppelganger, where she came from, what her intentions are, everything.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

"...So it_ is_ a mystery," Lambdadelta breathed, picking her nails with her gloved fingers.

"And when there's a mystery," Featherine smiled, "We need someone to preside over it for theories~ Guess who I invited?"

With a snap of her fingers, Featherine made someone who was very familiar to Lambdadelta appear before her eyes. Lambdadelta's eyes widened in shock as she saw that familiar face that she had seen earlier in the Senate; those blue robes, that heavily built body, that sword...

And the man was equally shocked to be there as well. His eyes met Lambdadelta's red ones, and when he looked at Featherine, Featherine curtsied to him in respect (although it could be questioned greatly as to whether it was truly respectful or not) and smiled placidly.

"Welcome, Head Inquisitor Ronald Knox, to the succession game of the Most Powerful Witch in the Universe."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This chapter was hellish. Very very hellish.

If there's anything that you don't understand, you can PM me ^^; i don't bite owo and i finally updated wheeee lololol derp derp~

please review :3

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	7. Affirmed

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 7: __Affirmed_

The presence of Archbishop Ronald Knox in the main game room of the City of Books greatly shocked Lambdadelta, and the Archbishop was shocked as well at his sudden arrival at Featherine Augustus Aurora's abode.

Getting up from her seat, Lambdadelta curtsied to the archbishop in respect, and so did the archbishop bowed to Lambdadelta. It was a shocking moment to see that Featherine had called for him at that time, and Lambdadelta didn't waste her time to ask questions and inquire more as to why Knox was there in the main game room. The Witch of Certainty and the Head Inquisitor had various questions racing in their heads, wondering which one to ask first without sounding rushed and demanding so as to not offend the other.

Finally, Lambdadelta broke the silence with a soft voice. "What brings you here...Archbishop Knox...?"

"I...I don't know," he found himself saying so softly that only the Witch of Certainty could hear, looking around him to see shelves of books, a rocking chair, two armchairs and the tea table. It was evident that he was thoroughly confused, and when he saw Featherine's confident smile, it confused him even more as to what her true motives were on bringing him here against his will and by surprise. Featherine then put on her most innocent look so as to revel in misleading the Archbishop, idly playing with her cane as she did so.

"I'm terribly sorry if I had intruded in any activities that you have been doing, Inquisitor Knox," the Witch of Drama slurred her syllables smoothly. "If I have, I duly apologize, and whatever inconveniences that is to come in the future is much regretted in my part." With a simple smile, Featherine made a gesture to the High Inquisitor to take a seat on one of the armchairs as a basic form of hospitality, to which Ronald Knox slowly and hesitantly took a seat while shaking his head slowly to contradict and reject Featherine's ways of inviting guests to her abode.

However, as for Lambdadelta, she refused to sit, for she wanted answers at that very moment.

"What is your purpose, Lady Aurora?" the Witch of Certainty slammed her gloved hand on the game table, her red eyes piercing into Featherine's violet ones defiantly. "You are not allowed to simply make the innovator of the Decalogue present himself in a location without a valid reason and without his consent! How dare you break the basic protocol of the Heavenly Court?"

"Ah, but that is a rather harsh way of putting it, Lady Lambdadelta," Featherine softened her tones as she spoke to the blonde-haired witch as if she didn't want her to be further aggravated, silently drinking in the wonderful glow of the Witch of Certainty's red eyes. "I do apologize if that is how you think it was, but we need Inquisitor Knox to contribute to this historical game! Surely he can, can't he? You do not need to contribute much, Inquisitor; just something very small so that we may proceed with our game without any disturbances~"

"What do you require of me, Lady Aurora?" the Archbishop gruffly asked the Witch of Drama, not showing any form of confusion any longer and wanted to get straight to the point. "If it is to inquire about the rules that you wish to apply for your game with Lady Lambdadelta, you can use either the Van Dine's Commandments or my own Decalogue. There is no need to inquire for permission."

Featherine shook her head, denying his earlier assumption.

"Oh no, Inquisitor Knox," she shook her head with an amused air. "It's not that. It's not that at all. For this game, your Decalogue will be used thoroughly throughout. The game knows what rules it wants."

"Get straight to the point," Lambdadelta snarled, her gloved hands balling into fists as she spoke.

"Shush, Lady Lambdadelta," Featherine giggled, being ever so soft in her intonations. "Please save your pretty voice for the game. As for my intentions of having you here, Inquisitor Knox," to which Featherine smiled oh-so-sweetly to the Archbishop, "I would like for you to bestow upon us the privilege of the Decalogue."

At that moment, Lambdadelta froze at her place.

The atmosphere fell deathly silent as the words came out from Featherine's mouth. Lambdadelta found that she was unable to speak at that moment due to the overwhelming shock that she had felt after Featherine had responded. Ronald Knox, however, was unfazed; in fact, he arched his eyebrow in interest and a challenging smile crept up his aged face as Featherine sat on her rocking chair while wearing that same serene smile.

"...So you want me to bestow upon the game the privilege of the Decalogue," was all he said. "That is a rather large thing to ask of me, since it is coming from you."

"That is correct. I am terribly sorry if it is too much to ask, but the game desperately calls for it, Inquisitor. Why else would I summon you here to my abode? But you may take your time, there is no hurry at all, and there is much time to consider my request." Featherine smoothly spoke. She wasn't impatient at all, rather, no one could actually tell Featherine's expression at the time because her smile would always answer for her. A smile on her face was all it took to take care of matters in Featherine's case.

"Don't," Lambdadelta spoke up, looking at Ronald Knox straight in the eye as she said so.

"Lady Lambdadelta-" the Archbishop started, but Lambdadelta cut him off harshly as the atmosphere around them suddenly became cold.

"We do not need it," she repeated more firmly.

"Oh my, Lady Lambdadelta," Featherine arched her eyebrow in apparent interest. "Why the sudden opposition? Such things are needed to carry on with a legendary game like ours, and it is apparent that you would know about that. Are my requests not to your liking, even if they are meant for Inquisitor Knox himself?"

"The game is none of his concerns. We are inconveniencing Archbishop Knox even further," the Witch of Certainty spoke directly. "What I would like to ask you however, Lady Aurora, is the reason why we need something so important as the privilege of the Decalogue."

Featherine sighed inaudibly as she smiled at Lambdadelta, wanting to study her expression and her reaction at the very intent of wanting the privilege of the Decalogue. Her red eyes were the same, but they hardened dangerously and her face was paler than usual. The Witch of Drama was aware that the Witch of Certainty knew what she was trying to do, but somehow, whenever Lambdadelta's expressions had any small changes, it thrilled Featherine to know that she finally got to see them.

That those expressions were intended for her. That she had never shown those expressions for anyone else.

It was just for Featherine.

What other expressions will she get from her, she wonders?

"If we do not get the privilege of the Decalogue," Featherine spoke, "Then the rules will not be enforced and the game will be in shambles! Surely you knew this from the very beginning, Lady Lambdadelta; you haven't forgotten, have you?"

"We don't need it, Archbishop," Lambdadelta repeated, standing her ground as she looked at Ronald Knox in such a way that only he could tell that she was pleading with him. "I'm sorry if we had interrupted in whatever you were doing, and thank you for tolerating our rudeness."

He could see it.

He could see her red eyes asking, pleading him to leave.

Despite her hard, disciplined voice, her eyes were telling an entirely different story.

"Hmm," the Witch of Drama sighed. "What to do...what to do...I don't want to disappoint Lady Lambdadelta, of course I don't, and you're so very busy, Inquisitor Knox...I would love to comply with Lady Lambdadelta's wishes no matter how peculiar they can be; a great witch such as her shouldn't be offended in any way! However...hmm..."

A small pause followed.

"Ah! I've got it!" Featherine clapped happily. "Let me make it easier for you, Inquisitor Knox...how would you like a little deal-making?~"

"If it is a deal from you, it must be interesting, Lady Aurora," Ronald Knox leaned into the armchair, his smile reflecting a hint of cunning interest. If one were to look at him, they would've had an image of a brilliant strategist in mind, making many calculations in his head as the very prospect of a deal got his mind working. Featherine knew that he was interested in the deal, and conjured up a knife in her hand, letting it float towards Ronald Knox for him to take. He took the knife, and Lambdadelta's eyes widened dangerously at the realization that they were about to make a pact.

A deal sealed in blood.

"Archbishop Knox..." Lambdadelta started, but his fatherly gaze upon her refrained her from speaking further.

"If you agree to bestow the privilege of the Decalogue upon the game," Featherine began, "Dlanor A. Knox will be in safe hands from the conspiracy."

At the very mention of Dlanor, Lambdadelta turned to see Ronald Knox's face, which was strangely constant even if his daughter's name was mentioned. Featherine half-expected the Inquisitor to show a reaction at the mention of his daughter, but he merely stroked his beard in thought. After a while, he stopped, looked at Featherine in the eye and did something that was beyond Lambdadelta's comprehension.

He laughed.

His booming laughter escaped from his mouth.

"HAHAHAHAHA! You truly are cunning, Lady Aurora! Truly marvelous! I am honored to know such a vile witch!"

The Witch of Drama smiled in response. "Why, thank you, Inquisitor Knox~ Probably you have known that the news of the conspiracy had already spread in the Senate and in Heaven; what have they told you about me? Surely they have told you unpleasant things about me, and I do hope that you do not believe them~"

"I do not need mouths to tell me about it; I have already speculated from the start!" Ronald Knox thundered. "You instigator! When you have imprisoned that witch, you have already carried out with your plans, haven't you, Lady Aurora?"

Featherine's smile froze on her face.

"...What witch?" Lambdadelta found herself asking. "Who are you talking about?" There were many questions racing in her head: is Beatrice alright? Is Dlanor alright? Is Van Dine's son alright? Ronove, the witches, the Readers...are they alright?

"Will you grant us the privilege of the Decalogue, Inquisitor Knox?" she repeated, this time with a little more force in her voice. "I would be deeply saddened if something were to happen to dear little Dlanor if her father doesn't comply with such an honorable request-"

"Stop it!" the Witch of Certainty shrieked in raw anger, her eyes blazing with fury.

"AH! Do you really think that my daughter is still little, Lady Aurora?" he asked confidently in that grand voice of his. "This conspiracy is no doubt dangerous, but to threaten me with the safety of Dlanor is low, Lady Aurora! Beneath standards! Is she that small in your eyes? Ahahahahaha!"

Featherine blinked in surprise at his sudden response, and even more so when he outstretched his arm to point the knife at her direction.

"You have not examined your cards right, Lady Aurora," Ronald Knox spoke, "and you will come to regret this. My daughter, Dlanor is a ruthless officer who will one day inherit my position! The conspiracy will not leave a single scratch on Dlanor; she will kill, destroy and carry on for me if I perish in your hands!" With that, he stood up, and with the knife he had in his hands, he stabbed his arm, drawing blood from where he dragged.

"So go on! I will bestow upon your game the privilege of the Decalogue, and it will secure your downfall! It will be your first mistake, and your last!"

"Archbishop Knox!" Lambdadelta exclaimed in horror, clutching on his bleeding arm as the blood smeared her gloves. "DON'T!"

But it was too late. Featherine conjured up the contract, made the paper catch a few drops of his blood and the contract was complete.

* * *

><p>In one of the libraries in the City of Books, Lambdadelta was distraught.<p>

It was the first time that she had ever felt so distraught in her life after the Logic Error. Her hands were clenched into angry fists, her face was as pale as paper and her eyes were glaring at the heavily built man before her. Ronald Knox looked at the quivering witch before him, and he could find no words to reassure her, to calm her or even to change the subject. The Archbishop couldn't help but be surprised at how Lambdadelta's emotions resurfaced at once when he gave the privilege of the Decalogue to the game, and it pained him to hear her anguished pleads.

"Why?" Lambdadelta gritted her teeth. "Why did you do that? You gave her the privilege of the Decalogue; do you have any idea how she can use it to hurt you!"

The Archbishop did not answer.

What pained Lambdadelta greatly was the very definition of the privilege of the Decalogue. The privilege of the Decalogue was created by Ronald Knox himself to allow him to become one with the Decalogue; the rules that he himself had made. The Decalogue was him, and he was the Decalogue. When the privilege of the Decalogue is bestowed upon a game, he will become the rule keeper of the game that he has bestowed the privilege upon, enabling him to use and bend the rules according to his own will.

Unfortunately, while getting the prospect that he is the personification of his own rules, there could be circumstances in a witch's game where the rules might tightly bind it up to the extent that it would make victory impossible. It has never happened before, but judging Featherine Augustus Aurora's latest game, there could be a great possibility that this might happen.

So in that case, the only option Ronald Knox might make is to have to commit the worst offense possible: breaking his own rules.

Which _will_ lead to his ultimate execution.

"You have signed your own death!" the blonde-haired witch screamed, her face turning red with anger.

"Lady Lambdadelta," he spoke solemnly. "There is a reason why I have done so."

"I know," she responded. "I know there is a reason. I know that you are going to do something. But I am not pleased with the fact that I don't know what you might do!"

Ronald Knox put his hands on her shoulders in a fatherly manner, causing Lambdadelta to bite her lip so as to not allow the tears to form in her eyes. "It is wrong of me not to tell you. I am sorry for not being a reliable source, Lady Lambdadelta, but I can only tell you so much at the moment."

"Then tell me," her voice hardened. "Tell me what I need to know."

"Do not let Lady Aurora use you. That is all I can tell you."

It was far too risky to speak alone in the City of Books at that moment, and as Lambdadelta's anger still burned within her, Ronald Knox knelt on one knee and bowed his head, causing Lambdadelta to just look at him in utter shock. The fact that such a powerful being from the court of Heaven knelt down for a request snapped her out of her reverie, and with all her airs and graces, Lambdadelta bit her lip to control it from quivering.

"When I die," Ronald Knox humbly spoke. "Please take care of Dlanor for me."

There was no response from her.

"Lady Lambdadelta, please," he repeated, this time more gently.

"I will never forgive you for what you have done to yourself."

Neither one of them said anything afterwards for a while, and Ronald Knox decided that it was no good to be before the witch whom he had disappointed. It was a troubling time for them, and before he left, she hardened her voice to respond to his final request.

"...I will."

* * *

><p>And when he left, she cried silently in anguish.<p>

* * *

><p>When Lambdadelta came back to the main game room after that, she found Featherine waiting there for her with a rather worried look on her face.<p>

Instead of lying around on the floor carelessly as she had did the other day, Featherine was alert as she sat on her rocking chair, not rocking it at all. She could feel Featherine studying her face even though her tear stains weren't that obvious, but something about Featherine's worried expression puzzled Lambdadelta to no end. Much to Lambdadelta's surprise, Featherine got up, walked towards Lambdadelta and pulled her into a rather compassionate embrace.

"You were crying, weren't you?" the Witch of Drama's voice was as gentle as it could be. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, Lady Lambdadelta..."

But with that sentence, Featherine whispered it again and again in Lambdadelta's ear, brushing her fingers through her soft, short blonde hair as she held her.

"W-What are you..." Lambdadelta's breath hitched, being apparently frozen in her place before Featherine silenced her with a slight tap of her finger on her lips.

"I'm sorry...but you see..."

...and with that, she slowly licked the Witch of Certainty's bare neck, much to the latter's surprise...

"..._it must be done._"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I proofread this chapter while watching a boxing match xDDD.

It's funny at how after every round, girls start dancing all around on the ring and then I just can't help but yell at the TV "CAN ROUND 4 START NOW PLEASE" while my cat prods with the remote, xDDDD.

If there's any questions, you can PM me or leave it in the reviews! Thanks for reading this chapter!

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	8. Outlucked

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 8: __Out-lucked_

_I waited._

* * *

><p><em>Addressed to the Endless Witch, Beatrice,<em>

_Give this letter your full attention. The worst is beginning. Archbishop Ronald Knox has bestowed the privilege of the Decalogue upon the game. Make sure that Dlanor and Willard are safe, and always have Ronove to accompany you at all times. Archbishop Knox knows about the conspiracy, and I trust that the news have already spread to where you are. _

_Please do take the time to research on the previous succession games that involves Lady Aurora, and be careful. Burn this letter once you have read it._

_Signed,_

_The Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta._

* * *

><p>Her letters never ceased to be formal.<p>

Beatrice would have secretly smiled at the fact that her friend's letters were undeniably formal and stuffy no matter what the occasion was, but the contents of the letter in her hands at the moment put her on full alert. She was in her personal quarters in her nightgown, rereading Lambdadelta's cursive handwriting which was purely in English again and again; something that had puzzled her a bit. It wasn't that Beatrice wasn't good in her English; English was like second nature to her, but the fact that the letter was written purely in English somewhat muddled and confused Beatrice.

Lambdadelta never liked using English, let alone using it in letters. And rereading the letter heightened Beatrice's curiosity even more.

It truly wasn't good news. Even if Lambdadelta had found a way to send letters personally to her, the news will never be good if this keeps up. It alarmed her to find out that Archbishop Knox had bestowed the privilege of the Decalogue already, and the rumors of the conspiracy increased day by day. There were rumors that the conspiracy was formed by the Heavenly authorities or even one of the witches in the Senate, and as each day passed, the witches started trusting each other less and less. Old friends didn't talk as much as they used to, acquaintances became hostile and the Senate was in a state of silent turmoil.

"'Addressed to the End-uh-less Witch, Beatrriche,'" a clear, bright voice came from beside the silver-haired witch.

The voice came from a young girl no older than eight with the most startling pair of blue eyes that anyone would have ever seen. Her wavy golden blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders and her face shone with that child-like glow most children would have. It so happened that this beautiful child wanted to come with Beatrice to the Senate to see how witches are supposed to be like, because she wanted to be a witch just like her. It was like a dream that the child must obtain, and Beatrice served to be the sole teacher to this golden-haired child.

"Princess," Beatrice sighed, throwing the letter in the furnace, "it's time for you to sleep. It is already past your bed time."

"But teacher!" the girl whined, obviously not wanting to sleep in fear of waking up to find that she wasn't in her teacher's quarters anymore. "It's not ten yet! And what's that letter about? Why is it in English? Why do the words sound so bossy?" With a decisive look, she had come to a conclusion. "I don't like that person, teacher."

Beatrice gasped in shock. "Princess! She is a very esteemed witch, and she did not intend to be 'bossy'. It is a formal letter, and she must write as such to another witch."

"If it's formal, why did you throw it in the fire, teacher?" the inquisitive little thing pressed further.

"You will understand when you are older," the silver-haired witch smiled in return.

"That's what you always say," the girl pouted as she ran to the bed and dived in the covers, trying to get an answer from her teacher by sulking. Instead of scolding the girl, Beatrice gently hummed to herself as she tried to mask her worry.

"If I let you meet her, you will like her," Beatrice added, referring to the sender of the letter herself.

"I don't!" the girl protested in a muffled voice, muffling her mouth with a pillow. "I don't like her! I'm going to bed now! Good night!"

Beatrice could only smile at the little girl's antics. "Good night, Princess," her gentle voice came.

"Hmph!"

As the girl drifted off to sleep in Beatrice's bed, Beatrice herself did not allow the pleasure of sleep to overcome her at that moment. She stayed up to ponder about the letter that she had recently burned, wondering at why Ronald Knox had granted the privilege of the Decalogue at such a short time. The only facts that she had received so far from Ronove were that most of the witches in the Senate do not know what the conspiracy really was and that only _three_ people knew the entire story behind the conspiracy.

If you were to exclude Featherine Augustus Aurora (who could be most likely be the instigator of the conspiracy itself), there would be two people.

Even Lambdadelta, who would be the most likely person to know about the conspiracy only had suspicions and speculations.

There's got to be a way to gather the information about the previous succession games without attracting any attention and suspicion, Beatrice thought. If she were to send Ronove, it would be too risky for him, and if she were to send Dlanor and Will, it wouldn't do any good either. She didn't want them to get in trouble, and the Senate is already in a state of internal turmoil. Beatrice didn't want any more trouble to befall any of them.

Waving her wand from the tips of her toes to her head, Beatrice changed into a simple blue gown with her magic and proceeded to exit her quarters, closing the door quietly so as to not wake her student up. As she walked from her quarters to the library of the Senate of Witches, she laid out a plan for herself in case anyone were to ask her any questions. And it was better to go at night because it would be easier for her to disarm any witches who might be lurking around, being a witch who specialized in covert attacks.

She can't put this off until the next day. She knew that she had to go right then and there, and to her, the sooner the better. Beatrice knew that she can't stay put at all when it came to a matter of utmost importance such as this.

Silently, she made haste in the night, focusing only to reach her destination.

* * *

><p>"I must warn you, Lady Lambdadelta," Featherine slurred as she spoke in the main game room of the City of Books, "This mystery might not include all of the rules of the Decalogue. Will that be acceptable?"<p>

The Witch of Certainty, who had recently recovered from her despair of what had happened the day before merely nodded her head in a professional manner. She didn't feel like speaking at that very moment, especially to the person who had spontaneously (or probably, it must have been planned from the very beginning) thrown a death warrant at one of the most prominent figures in her life. Ronald Knox, the Head Inquisitor of Heresy of the 7th District Repentance Enforcement Agency of the Great Court of Heaven was already dead to her in her mind, having given his privilege of the Decalogue to Featherine's game. Her mentor, her friend, her father figure...

He gave his life to stop any future happenings that the conspiracy might bring, and left her with his only daughter, Dlanor.

"What did Archbishop Knox mean by you being the instigator of the conspiracy?" Lambdadelta asked in a straightforward tone, making sure that her sharp glare never wavered from the lazy figure before her. Featherine arched her eyebrow, but there were no signs of anger on her face at all. Instead, she laughed in a humored manner; her laughter filling the room like little bells ringing in a small town.

"Instigator of the conspiracy?" Featherine's velvet-like voice came. "Why, isn't that a bit too early for assumptions, Lady Lambdadelta? Surely a witch like me isn't capable of dooming the Senate in such a way, and I truly despise conspiracies of the sort!"

"There was a witch, wasn't there? Archbishop Knox had said something about a witch. Who is she?" Lambdadelta pressed on further.

There was a beat of silence, and slowly, Featherine smiled yet again, but it was somehow very hard to make out what type of smile that was. It was a mixture of amusement, strain, and the worst: twisted glee.

"_A dear, dear friend of mine,_" she responded. "Shall we begin?"

The projection of the game came up again, but this time, it didn't stay where they had left off. It apparently had a mind of its own; continuing by its own accord. The _miko_ was nowhere to be seen anymore, but there was someone who resembled her, running in a hall of numerous doors. Her blue hair flapped wildly as it was expected to do, but there was something wrong with the _miko's_ face.

Instead of having a fearful expression or a determined one as Lambdadelta had always seen, this girl that was running before her had a vengeful expression instead.

"...This is not the same girl," Lambdadelta pointed out.

"No, it is not," was the response from her opponent. "This, Lady Lambdadelta, is the doppelganger."

There was a terrible amount of vengeance on her face, surprising Lambdadelta for a while. It was as if this person was confined against her will for a very long time, and with time, her rage accumulated day by day. The amount of hatred on her face was so much that Lambdadelta had to avert her face for a while from the projection, and focused on where the original_ miko_ was instead.

All she could see was a shadow where the doppelganger was supposed to be, trying to catch up while her right hand shivered. In that said hand was a knife, and it was evident that the shadow was trying very hard to drop it. The shadow was following the girl from a distance, and her restrained gasps caught Lambdadelta's attention. Using her commands, Lambdadelta decided to confirm if that was the miko in question.

_Is that you?_

"H-Help me..." was the sole reply to her command, but it was more than enough.

The doppelganger had successfully assumed the_ miko's_ form.

"So I must find out the doppelganger's existence in order to fix the Logic Error, am I correct?" Lambdadelta spoke.

"Precisely," Featherine answered. "There are many ways, really. Find out its existence, deny its existence, or even permanently stop it from trying to kill my _miko_ endlessly in this game. The question is; how will you do that, Lady Lambdadelta?"

"Knox's 10th!" Lambdadelta tried. "It is forbidden for a character to disguise themselves as another without any clues."

"Negated," Featherine responded coolly. "The doppelganger isn't disguising herself as the _miko_ at all."

_Darn_, Lambdadelta thought. As far as Lambdadelta knew, the doppelganger was some sort of ethereal being that loved to get on her nerves. Lambdadelta tried once again with the hopes of getting somewhere with Knox's 2nd.

"Knox's 2nd. It is forbidden for supernatural agencies to be employed as a detective technique."

"Negated. Whoever said this was supernatural?" Featherine chimed, giggling softly as if she was humoring a child.

"But the doppelganger isn't disguising herself as the _miko_, and it's assuming the _miko'_s identity! How can this not be supernatural?" Lambdadelta argued, obviously at her wits end. "Then, Knox's 4th! It is forbidden for unknown drugs or hard to understand scientific devices to be used!"

"Negated," the Witch of Drama hummed. "It is not hard to understand at all~"

Lambdadelta was at her wits end, and she felt so stumped that she could just stamp the word 'stupid-head' all over her forehead. Surely she can't use Knox's 7th; well, that's just a bit too obvious already, she can't use Knox's 8th unless she had a valid theory, she can't even use Knox's 9th because she doesn't understand a thing that was going on at that moment.

_What are you doing? _Lambdadelta spoke, prompting the poor, desperate _miko_ to let out a choked breath.

"I...I can't control myself!" the _miko's_ choked voice came. "T-There's a knife in my hand...I-I don't know how it got there...a-and...I-I can't drop it! I can't drop it at all! I-I'm running after someone who looks exactly like me...n-no...I don't want to kill myself!"

_Calm down. Why are you running after her?_

"I don't know! I-I'm just moving by myself...!"

_The knife is directed at her, right?_

"Y-Yes...!"

"There must be at least ONE rule in the Decalogue that can be applied against the game, right?" Lambdadelta asked. "I've tried all I can."

"Hmm...well, this mystery was actually dabbled with quite a lot..." Featherine put on a pensive look on her face. "All of the rules have been applied to this game, so it's highly impossible that you can use one of the rules to actually go against it. Besides, you're the first person to ever play the game with me~"

"So," Lambdadelta said, "The only clues that I have are that the doppelganger issue is not hard to understand, is not a supernatural issue, and is NOT disguising herself as the _miko_ at all."

"Precisely," Featherine smiled.

Lambdadelta was about to add on more when she heard the grand ring of Featherine's grandfather clock, signifying that it was already midnight. The hour and minute hands were pointing directly at the number 12, and Featherine took the opportunity to yawn, stretch her numb arms and sigh with satisfaction while waving the projection away. Lambdadelta mentally cursed the clock to death, biting her lip as she got up to leave for her room.

"We will continue tomorrow morning," Lambdadelta said stoically. "Good night, Lady Auror-"

All of a sudden, Lambdadelta found herself being pulled in a gentle embrace by the older witch.

Lambdadelta's red eyes widened with shock as Featherine embraced her; her fingers going through the golden strands of her hair as Featherine held the Witch of Certainty like a treasured porcelain doll. The younger witch tried to push away, but Featherine's grip on her was much stronger than her puny efforts. Leaning downwards to Lambdadelta's ear, Featherine then began to whisper the most detestable thing that Lambdadelta had ever heard ever since Ronald Knox was forced to bestow the privilege of the Decalogue upon the game.

"I'm sorry, Lady Lambdadelta...I'm really sorry..."

_Sorry._

_Sorry._

_I'm very sorry._

_This was meant to happen. I'm sorry._

_It was supposed to happen. I'm sorry._

...Lies.

All of them.

They were nothing but lies spilling out from her mouth.

And as Lambdadelta fought to release herself from Featherine's hold, she found Featherine's lips against her own.

* * *

><p>"I want you."<p>

* * *

><p>She didn't know why was this happening to her.<p>

* * *

><p>It was painful.<p>

Being exploited like this was painful.

She found herself on a bed, feeling the ebony-haired witch's hands all over her naked body and her discarded gown beneath it, leaving only her black gloves which clothed her hands. Fingers were touching places where they shouldn't be touching, and the blonde-haired witch considered resisting even more so that she would stop. But resisting would actually encourage the older witch to continue her ravishing, and to Featherine, the sight of the Witch of Certainty, bare and naked before her, was the greatest thing that she had ever seen in her life. Lambdadelta could feel her hands touching her, caressing her, stroking her, tearing at her flesh as her body betrayed her, shivering to Featherine's touch.

And when Featherine impaled her with her sharp fingers, Lambdadelta bit on her lip, drawing blood.

It was painful.

It hurt so much that she wished that she could cry out in pain if it weren't for her pride stopping her.

She could feel herself _bleeding_ as the blood rolled down her thighs.

But she won't show that it hurt.

Lambdadelta wouldn't give Featherine the satisfaction of hearing her gasp, hearing her moan, hearing her _scream_. She will have none of that. Featherine will never hear Lambdadelta's voice no matter how much she anticipates it, and she will never have the satisfaction of hearing her.

"I love you, Lady Lambdadelta. I love you so much..."

Featherine was breaking her with this sick obsession of hers.

But Lambdadelta will never give in.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** What happened to me ;A;

So it's the eighth chapter already, and the worst chapter for me to write at the moment xD I'M SORRY FOR THAT THING AT THE END I'M SO SORRY BUT THE PLOT CALLED FOR IT AND-

AAACHOOOO

*sniffle*

P-Please revie-AAAACHOOOO!

-Densetsu-no-Magur-AAAACHOOOOO!


	9. Forwarded

_Lady Hemera, the Witch of Intelligence as well as the first ranked witch in the Senate of Witches jerked up from her sleep, her eyes wide open with shock._

_Right at the door of her quarters was the son of the Chief Inquisitor of the SSVD, standing there as her Reader, Natalie ran in and tried to pull him away. The spoiled child of the Chief Inquisitor elbowed Natalie away rudely, marching in her quarters without a word as he faced a shocked Lady Hemera, who, despite her shock, managed to let out a yawn or two. With a serious yet strangely imploring look on his face, Will looked right at Lady Hemera, as if he had something important to say at 2 am in the morning._

_"I-I'm very sorry, Lady Hemera!" Natalie apologized profusely, but looking at her drowsy Master with her brown curls drooping over her face ungraciously somehow made a fuse in her head blow up. Sometimes, Natalie felt that it wasn't her Master who was taking care of her at all; it was the other way around. As expected, Lady Hemera let out yet another yawn, stretched on her bed and stared sleepily at Will._

_What shocked them, however, was when Will bent down on one knee with a serious yet imploring look on his face._

_"Lady Hemera," he began, showing utmost respect to the witch whom he was addressing to. "I am in need of your assistance."_

_The way Will dictated his words nearly made Lady Hemera stop yawning, blinking as she realized at how serious this kid was. Here he was at 2 in the morning, having the gall to actually wake the second highest ranking witch in the Senate of Witches with such a serious request..._

_Lady Hemera smiled, giggling to herself even, as she got up from her bed, stretched yet again and made Will stand up again by gently pushing him upwards. Will could almost sense the air of incessant drowsiness that enveloped the witch, to which he controlled himself so as to not actually be as drowsy as her at such a time. The Witch of Intelligence beckoned for Natalie to come over, to which the blonde-haired Reader crossly came over._

_"What is it now?" Natalie wrinkled her nose._

_"Oh, Natalie, don't be like that..." Lady Hemera airily giggled, and yawned yet again. "Get some sleeping clothes for Willard and some tea for the both of us. It might be a long night, so after you've done so, you can go back to sleep."_

_"You'd better stop yawning by the time I get back, okay?" Natalie huffed as she got ready to leave her Master's quarters._

_"Mm...okaaay~" was her Master's drowsy response. "Good night, Natalie~"_

_Exiting her Master's quarters, Natalie sighed. Here, she was serving a witch who could possibly run the entire Senate if she wanted to with the incredible amount of power that she's got, and what does her Master do? Yawn all day. Get all drowsy and walk all wobbly._ Sleep through the entire seven hundredth and eighty-first discussion of the Senate of Witches.

Some Master I've got, _she thought irritably to herself. Natalie grumpily walked along the corridors to get her Master the things that she whimsically asked for, that is, until she saw a strange figure hurrying towards the library. Following the figure, she sneaked up behind it, grabbed her pocketknife silently and as quickly as she struck, the figure turned to block the knife with another. Natalie's eyes widened as she could think of the only person who was able to perform such a feat._

_"L-Lady Beatrice!" Natalie gasped, but instead of silencing her, Beatrice took her hand and hurried to the library._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mendacium Speculorum<em>**

_Chapter 9: Forwarded_

"So, what would you like to talk about, Willard?" Lady Hemera smiled as she yawned at the end of her sentence.

The brightly lit room illuminated everything, prompting Will to shift a bit in his seat as he tried to keep cool in front of the 1st ranked witch in the Senate of Witches. It wasn't easy to request an audience with the great Lady Hemera, mainly because she is such a powerful witch with a high status, but to Willard and Natalie, the main reason why she's so hard to talk to is because she tends to _doze off during conversations_. Looking around for anything to munch, Lady Hemera conjured up some cookies and popped one in her mouth with a silly smile on her face.

Will then cleared his throat. "I...apologize for my earlier misconduct. I would like to discuss with you abou-"

"The conspiracy that happened in the Senate of Witches, right?" Lady Hemera smiled serenely. "Every Reader and everyone who wasn't there at the time were dying to ask me about that. I do hope..." she yawned, covering her mouth, "that you wouldn't tell anyone if I told you..." and yawned again.

"Please," Will spoke with a steely resolve in his eyes, "I need to know, Lady Hemera."

"Willard," Lady Hemera uttered, "Information does not come easy, and asking one for such a vital piece of information is not easy either. What makes you believe that I will tell you about the conspiracy?"

"If there are rumors about it, then it's bound to come true," Will answered. "Therefore, I want to help in stopping any consequences related to it."

"A child like you?"

"I am the future Chief Inquisitor of the SSVD. I deserve to know."

Lady Hemera sighed to herself.

"Who sent you to do this, Willard?" she asked, but Will was unfazed.

"I came here on my own accord."

The Witch of Intelligence studied Will's serious face, shocked at the fact that he tried to level his ego down just to get some information. She knew that no one sent him there, however, she knew whom he wanted to relay the information to. It wouldn't hurt telling him about it, and besides...

It was a favor to the two witches whom she loved seeing two years ago.

"Ahahaha, did you actually think that I wouldn't tell you?" Lady Hemera laughed, yawning at the middle of her sentence. "Of course I'll tell you, Willard. But don't say a word to anyone else, okay?"

Will felt as if he'd hit the jackpot.

"T-Thank you, Lady Hemera!" Will exclaimed, bowing before her. Lady Hemera drowsily brought him up and sat him on his seat again, and as expected, the tea and sleeping clothes that she had requested from Natalie appeared. Sipping the tea, she had a pensive look on her face, and laughed softly to herself.

_Natalie must have met Lady Beatrice_, she thought. _What a resourceful young witch._

"Alright then, I'll start," Lady Hemera smiled. "The conspiracy plaguing the Senate of Witches actually began way before the seven hundred and eighty-first discussion of the Senate of Witches. I think it was around...the seven hundredth? Before you were born, it had already started.

"Now, there was a witch who was selected to go against Lady Aurora for the position of the Most Powerful Witch in the Universe. She despised Lady Aurora's ways as much as we did, but she was the only one who actually took initiative of it. So, Lady Aurora set up a game for her, and it was made in such a way that the only way out was to declare a Logic Error.

"The witch refused, of course. Her remaining sanity was driving at her to not declare it. And to the very end, she didn't. The witch's knew Lady Aurora's true intentions; to turn the entire Senate of Witches into her personal theater. But at the cost of her retaliation, Lady Aurora tricked her into being trapped in the game that she played with her so as to not ruin her plans.

"Her plans were mainly for her own amusement, really. And the Heavenly Court didn't want any of that. No one wanted that. Because to turn the Senate of Witches into a theater would cause all of the witches to become marionettes in her little show. They would be completely under her control, and Lady Aurora's not even doing this for a purpose! Archbishop Ronald Knox, Wright of the SSVD and the other Heavenly courts did go against Lady Aurora before the witch got trapped, but after she did, they stopped. Lost hope. Gave up. The conspiracy went on slowly but surely, and what made it accelerate was the next succession game that we decided to finally bring up. We thought that she would choose me, but...

"She picked Lady Lambdadelta, and it was to our greatest disadvantage."

Lady Hemera looked away, to which Will widened his eyes in shock. Lady Lambdadelta had the power to...

"Is it...because Lady Lambdadelta is the personification of certainty?" Will hesitantly asked.

"Yes, Willard. With Lady Lambdadelta's unfailing certainty, Lady Aurora can fully utilize her power to make sure this happens. And all the better because she is a personification witch."

"A...personification witch?"

"One who personifies the very traits of a being. Every universal being embodies a certain trait, and a few witches here happen to be their personifications. Lady Lambdadelta's certainty is rather powerful, and it's not something to be taken lightly," Lady Hemera explained seriously. "Now that you know this, Willard...please tell Lady Beatrice and be discreet about it," she smiled.

Will suddenly choked on his tea. "H-How did you...!"

"Oh, I know, Willard," she giggled. "Come on. Finish up your tea, brush your teeth and change. If you come out of my quarters at this time," to which she started yawning again, "it might be...suspicious..."

And after showing him to the bathroom, Lady Hemera yawned, hauled herself to bed and slept.

* * *

><p>The world around her was blurry.<p>

After that night, Lambdadelta was thoroughly disgusted with herself. She stood at the door of Featherine's quarters clad in a gown that she had recently changed in, and when she looked back, Featherine was still sleeping. Closing the door behind her silently, the Witch of Certainty closed her eyes and as she walked through the corridor that led to the main game room, she frustratingly took out her right glove and brushed her index finger against her uncovered skin.

It was disgusting, feeling her own skin.

Walking past the many bookshelves in the City of Books, Lambdadelta licked her bottom lip, tasting the metallic taste of blood on her wound that she had inflicted upon herself that night. Opening the door to the main game room, she locked it, slumped down on the floor in a sitting fashion and gritted her teeth in anger. There's got to be a way to escape this, and with a snap of her fingers, the projection of the game emerged.

And to Lambdadelta's surprise, the _miko_ didn't look like a shadow anymore. She wasn't even chasing the doppelganger anymore, rather, she was hugging her knees at a dark spot.

_Hm,_ Lambdadelta thought. _Maybe the game just comes and goes even without us playing it._

_Good morning_, Lambdadelta spoke.

The _miko_ looked up, and she seemed quite happy to hear the voice again. However, she caught a peculiar tone in Lambdadelta's voice, and the _miko's_ face looked rather worried.

"G-Good morning...Are you alright?"

_Yeah, I'm fine_, Lambdadelta answered with a small smile. _Having a rest?_

"Not really..." the blue-haired girl murmured. "I reached the room where the typewriter is, so here I am again. I'm trying to think of what to do next..."

_That's not your job_, the Witch of Certainty sighed. _It's mine._

"Oh...yeah..." the _miko's_ embarrassed voice came. "Um...Do I know you from anywhere? You sound like someone I knew, or at least had spoken to before..."

The Witch of Certainty found herself smiling. _Yes._

"R-Really?" came the girl's shocked reply. "F-From where? Since you're a witch...o-oh...I don't talk to any of them much...What's your name?"

_You wouldn't know even if I told you._

"W-Well, at least say your name!" the _miko_ burst out in irritation. "What's the use of having a name if you won't say it?"

Lambdadelta blinked for a moment, temporarily taken aback by the miko's outburst.

_Just because I don't want to tell you my name, that doesn't mean you have to exclaim so loud._

"I'm not exclaiming!"

There was an unsettling pause afterwards, and Lambdadelta found herself gazing at the projection of the game as if it was some kind of a puppet show. It was only her on the floor, looking up while hugging her knees, indirectly assuming the same position as the_ miko_. For a moment there, it seemed as if two girls were about to be friends, but in reality, it was just a witch and a _miko_ sitting while thinking of things.

* * *

><p><em>'This is your first time watching a puppet show, isn't it, dear?'<em>

* * *

><p>All of a sudden, Lambdadelta's eyes widened.<p>

The voice was faint, and it was as if it ghosted right past her. She couldn't even tell who spoke, and as she looked around, there was nothing. No spirits, no ghosts, no witches, nothing. The _miko_ wondered why was it so quiet, and decided to open her mouth to speak. She was used to the solitary silence, but for some reason, she really wanted to talk to this witch who's trying to help her.

"Um...are you okay?"

_...Mm? Yeah._

"You don't seem to be okay..."

_I'm fine._

"You don't sound fine!" the _miko_ insisted. "There's something wrong, right? Why won't you tell me? Maybe I can help!"

Lambdadelta found herself laughing softly. _You can't help in this sort of thing. I just had a rough night, that's all._

"Rough nights don't make you _this_ grumpy," the blue-haired girl crossed her arms, and she stood up, looking upwards as if she was talking straight from the ground to a God. "The witches who've been contending with my Master went through a rough patch like you. Most of them would complain that their heads might burst, or even state that my Master's game's all mixed up and jumbled to pieces. But...as much as this may sound cheesy...um...think out of the box! There are many ways to save me, you know!"

_Your enthusiasm is surprisingly abundant today_, Lambdadelta giggled softly.

"Because it keeps you and me company!" the _miko_ laughed. "And cheer up! Since you've got the fact that you're currently on my side, and I'm currently on yours, let's try to solve this together, okay?"

Lambdadelta didn't want to say it, but the enthusiasm that the _miko_ had made her remember what she's here for.

She came here to save the miko. And keep her company...somehow. Because...

...She, the great Witch of Certainty, needed someone to understand her. Someone whom she can understand as an equal. It may sound selfish, but when one has someone to understand with, they feel more...

Content.

_...Okay_, Lambdadelta smiled, agreeing to work together with the _miko_. _Let's work this out._

"See? Wasn't that easy?" the blue-haired girl clapped her hands, leaning forward this time. "So what have you learned during the previous game?"

_The doppelganger issue is not hard to understand, is not a supernatural issue, and is NOT disguising herself as you at all. I'm having a bit of doubts about the 'not a supernatural issue' part._

"Hmm..." the miko started thinking. "You could be right about that. The supernatural is attributed to some force beyond scientific understanding or the laws of nature...so try thinking of something scientific!"

_...I know. Thanks._

"Glad I could help!" the _miko_ smiled triumphantly.

_I mean, I know that I'm right._

And with that, Lambdadelta waved the projection away with a tiny smile on her face, leaving the _miko_ in the game to silently sulk.

"W-Who do you think you are, h-huh?" she huffed. "Sheesh!"

* * *

><p>"W-What are you doing here, Lady Beatrice?" Natalie whispered, looking around as they entered the library, rummaging through a few shelves.<p>

"I'm doing some research," Beatrice smiled, taking a few books and making them vanish to her quarters. "About the conspiracy."

Natalie widened her eyes in response. "I-It's actually real? Lady Beatrice, is this true?"

"They're talking a lot about it, so it must be," Beatrice nodded, putting on her cloak again as she and Natalie went out from the library as fast and as silent as they could. "Both of us weren't there when it happened, and the conspiracy might happen any time soo-"

"About Lady Lambdadelta..." Natalie suddenly spoke, prompting Beatrice to actually walk even faster. If there's one thing she's learned, it's not to stop in the middle of the corridor at night. "I...had a vision of her."

"What did you see?" the Endless Witch asked. Natalie's visions were always true, as Natalie was very gifted in foretelling. In a hushed whisper, she spoke, knowing that no one was around.

"I saw her...getting _stabbed_, Lady Beatrice."

Beatrice's blood ran cold.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I FINISHED THIS AT 12 AM- NO IT'S 12:01 FUUUUUUU

Chapter 9 everyone! Please listen to 'Finding the Balance' by Kevin Macleod while reading this chapter~ Thanks for all the reviews and please tell me what you think!

-Densetsu-no-Maguro. (My cold's gone!)


	10. Cornered

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 10: Cornered_

_Addressed to the Endless Witch, Beatrice,_

_Remember to burn this letter once you have read it. I might not know what is happening back there in the Senate, but I do know that you are doing something. As I know that you are very skilled, I won't worry about your safety any longer. Continue your research, and keep quiet about it. Do try not to trust too many people; it could be more dangerous than you think._

_Don't worry about me too much. I can find information here better than you can, I dare say. Do not reply to this letter, and do the same to the letters that I will send to you soon as well._

_Signed,_

_The Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta._

* * *

><p>Featherine Augustus Aurora looked as if she had just gotten out from bed, which was alarmingly true.<p>

She was reclining against her signature, antique rocking chair rather lifelessly, blinking occasionally as she eyed the game projection that she had lazily conjured up. Lambdadelta was sitting at a proper chair across her, sipping tea as if what had happened last night didn't happen at all. In actuality, Featherine was waiting for any form of reaction from Lambdadelta; a scream, a shout, a tantrum even, but there was nothing coming from the Witch of Certainty. Lambdadelta's attention was directed at the projection instead, and it looked as if she was studying it intently, searching for little loopholes or little details.

The object of her obsession was right before her, thinking hard on her little mystery.

"Got anything from the clues, Lady Lambdadelta?" Featherine adjusted herself on her rocking chair, looking at Lambdadelta with an approving smile. Lambdadelta looked at Featherine with her sharp gaze and set her teacup down; an uninterested look gracing itself upon her face.

"I'm still thinking," Lambdadelta replied. "Are you sure that this mystery is easy to understand, Lady Aurora?"

"Why, of course," Featherine giggled. "Is it too hard?"

"Of course not," Lambdadelta smiled sarcastically. "_It's not hard at all._ I just think that there's a tiny, little mistake in this wonderfully crafted game of yours, and it would make me the happiest witch in the world if you would so _kindly tell me what it is_."

"I myself do not know how to solve it," Featherine sighed dramatically, but then her moping expression changed into an expression full of longing. "But games like these keep two competitors going, right? So this way...none of us would get lonely."

And while Lambdadelta was watching Featherine's obvious charade, Featherine giggled yet again.

"Oh, you know I was just joking about that."

"It was obvious that you were joking," Lambdadelta flippantly said. "You are, after all, the Witch of Drama. The most talented actress of us all."

"The most talented actress of them all..." Featherine pondered aloud, then got up from her rocking chair and walked behind to where Lambdadelta was sitting, bending down to embrace her from behind. Lambdadelta stayed motionless, fixating her gaze upon the game where the _miko_ was running endlessly from the doppelganger who was clearly intent on killing her. Featherine's hands caressed Lambdadelta's face gently, as if she was cradling a beloved little doll.

"You're so cold, Lady Lambdadelta," the Witch of Drama's velvet-like voice rang softly. "This game must have been taking a lot out from you..."

"Why are you doing this?" Lambdadelta silently asked, and it did seem as if she was some sort of bird being caged up mercilessly.

Another giggle came from Featherine's mouth. "Because I want you~"

For such a playful tone, there was something very sickening, very dangerous, very...sinister in her voice when she said that sentence. Lambdadelta nearly tensed up, but she reminded herself that it wasn't in her position to react. She controlled herself from reacting any further, and focused on why she was there in the first place.

"The game, Lady Aurora," Lambdadelta reminded stoically. "I want to give commands for the time being."

"You're no fun," Featherine pouted, then laughed. "Go on. I'll be right behind you~ Oh, that was funny, wasn't it?~"

Lambdadelta merely clicked her tongue, not enjoying Featherine's humor at all. She looked at the projection, and with a deep breath that Featherine could feel at her fingertips, Lambdadelta began giving out her commands.

_Turn back_, Lambdadelta spoke, to which she saw the miko's eyes freeze in fear as she ran.

"Turn back?" the miko shouted, running for her life. "That's crazy! YOU'RE CRAZY!"

_Just for a while_, Lambdadelta stressed. _I just want to check something. Hopefully, you won't be hurt, but I'm not so sure._

"You're risking my life to find out something?" was the reply from the terrified miko. "And you're NOT SURE?"

_You're being too noisy!_ Lambdadelta raised her voice, something that Featherine didn't expect. _Just do it!_

The miko then did as she was told, turning back to run the other direction. As the miko ran, Lambdadelta bit her lip, wanting to see what was the end result. It was evident that the miko was scared; she was running in the direction of the doppelganger who was running straight at her with the sharpest knife she had ever seen. As Lambdadelta crossed her fingers, the miko and the doppelganger didn't stop running, and when the miko was right in front of the knife...

Lambdadelta widened her eyes.

The doppelganger couldn't stab her. Her hand was outstretched, but the knife couldn't pierce the miko. The miko herself was confused, and so was the doppelganger, so as they stood there, the doppelganger let out a scream of anger and glared at the miko as hard as she could.

The amount of hatred in her eyes were tremendous.

"So she couldn't stab her even if she tried," Lambdadelta nodded. "It would make a perfect loop."

"That is true," Featherine smiled. "Terribly true. So you see, technically, this game could go on and on, and the _miko_ can't ever be killed!~"

Lambdadelta bit her lip. Closing her eyes, she asked, "Can I talk to the doppelganger?"

"You can try," Featherine crossed her arms, patting Lambdadelta's head. "Well, it's pretty angry at the moment, so why not?~"

"That helped _a lot_."

Well, of course, by Lambdadelta's sarcasm, it didn't help at all. If she were to list all of the rules:

_Knox's 1st: It is forbidden for the culprit to be anyone not mentioned in the early part of the story._ It was applicable, because the doppelganger could be considered the culprit.

_Knox's 2nd: It is forbidden for supernatural agencies to be employed as a detective technique._ According to Featherine, nothing supernatural is happening. The time loop could be considered as a paradox of sorts.

_Knox's 3rd: It is forbidden for hidden passages to exist._ There are no hidden passages at all!

_Knox's 4th: It is forbidden for unknown drugs or hard to understand scientific devices to be used._ There are no devices either!

_Knox's 5th: It is forbidden for stereotypical minorities to assist or hinder the detective beyond providing their own conclusions and interpretations, or for said minorities to be the culprit._ There were no audiences for this game, therefore, no direct help was provided for Lambdadelta, the acting detective.

_Knox's 6th: It is forbidden for accident or intuition to be employed as a detective technique._ Well, Lambdadelta didn't have that.

_Knox's 7th: It is forbidden for the detective to be the culprit_. Obviously!

_Knox's 8th: It is forbidden for the case to be resolved with clues that are not presented._ It isn't even resolved yet.

_Knox's 9th: It is permitted for observers to let their own conclusions and interpretations be heard._ No audience, as stated. This could be a dangling rule, but not strong enough to be pointed out.

_Knox's 10th: It is forbidden for a character to disguise themselves as another without any clues._ Featherine did say that this wasn't a disguise.

The objective is to point out a broken rule in the game. However, all the rules are well followed!

...She couldn't think. Lambdadelta couldn't think of anything at all.

* * *

><p><em>'We welcome your birth, little one! Welcome to the world, my dear!'<em>

* * *

><p>"S-Stabbed?"<p>

The witch and the Reader were in Beatrice's quarters, and at the very word, Beatrice felt sick. She didn't want any harm to come upon Lambdadelta, and the worst part was; Natalie's visions were almost certainly correct. Natalie nodded gravely, and she began speaking further about that said vision that she had seen to the Golden Witch. She knew that Beatrice didn't want to hear it, but she felt that she needed to know.

"Lady Lambdadelta was stabbed by a knife," she spoke. "Knifes aren't fatal to witches nor Readers, but...she was stabbed by someone. It was excruciating...The knife was driven at her chest..."

"I-Is it serious?"

"Yes...It looked terribly serious. And there was a girl behind her, but she was unclothed."

"That means..." Beatrice thought. "She must've been protecting someone at the midst of battle...?"

"I'm not so sure, Lady Beatrice..." Natalie bit her lip. "B-But I really must go back now. Lady Hemera might be waiting for me, and I don't wish to delay her. I'm terribly sorry, Lady Beatrice."

"Ah..." Beatrice nodded, allowing her to go. "Y-You may leave now..."

Natalie curtsied and left, and when she did, Beatrice slumped on the chair, biting her lip as she prayed in her heart that Lambdadelta would somehow manage to change her own future. If one were to want a death sentence, Featherine Augustus Aurora seemed to be the ideal person to deliver it.

And the fact that it was true unsettled Beatrice to no end.

She had no idea how long the game would take either. The way Featherine masterminded her plans were as if she was intending for her opponents to fall and never get up again. Beatrice was clearly troubled, but as she was about to think further about the matter, her door was knocked. She got up, opened it and saw none other than Ronove at her door.

"R...Ronove!" she stammered. Ronove bowed before the Infinite Witch and smiled his trademark smile.

"Lady Beatrice," he spoke. "There is a letter for you."

He handed her an envelope, to which Beatrice frantically opened it. Reading the contents, she looked at Ronove with confused eyes. The last letter Beatrice had received was in English; perfect English, and this one was no different.

"The letter is in English," she spoke. "So was the past letter..."

Ronove looked rather puzzled as well. "As far as everybody knows, Lady Lambdadelta dislikes using English as a default language..."

It was the dead of the night, and neither of them had the energy to think.

* * *

><p>Ronald Knox entered his office with a troubled face, until he came face to face with his old friend, the Chief Inquisitor of the SSVD.<p>

He looked less than pleased. The father of Willard H. Wright wasn't pleased at all with his friend's decision and at once, he slammed his hand on Knox's desk. The anger on his face, however, did not faze Knox, as he knew that there was nothing that could be done about it. What was done, was done. And the two people who were dear to him knew. The only person who was dear to him and didn't know was his dear daughter Dlanor, and he wanted to spare her the news.

"What were you thinking, Knox?!" the Chief Inquisitor thundered, prompting Ronald Knox to do...nothing, really. He just stood there, looking directly at him. It infuriated the Chief Inquisitor even more, and he ended up yelling as much as he could.

"You're giving your life away, Knox! For a mere game! For a trick! For a trick that Lady Aurora had made! What the hell were you thinking, Knox?"

And much to his surprise, Ronald Knox merely smiled at his friend and only said one sentence that shook him.

"This will be the last time we will see each other. Goodbye, my friend."

* * *

><p>AN: I'M SORRY THIS IS LATE

AND SHORT

FORGIVE ME

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	11. Deserted

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 11: Deserted_

_I have waited for you, and I didn't even realize it._

* * *

><p>Willard H. Wright didn't feel comfortable waking up next to the second ranking witch in the Senate, who was practically hugging the poor boy like he was some sort of bolster.<p>

Sure, he understood that she was somewhat whimsical, but...he didn't realize that she was that ditzy, drowsy and _silly_. Yes, silly. He called her silly. He had NO choice but to call her silly, because as redundant as he was at that moment, it was the agonizing fact.. What type of witch would sleep-talk about _burning four Heavenly departments just because none of those departments would give her marshmallows?_

Lady Hemera, of course.

And to top it off; she _drools_ on her pillow!

Her Reader didn't even come back. Irritably, Will tried to pry himself out from Hemera's grasp, and when he managed to do so, he wrote a note of thanks to the witch and left as quietly as he could. He needed to tell Beatrice the news as quickly as possible, but he had to be discreet about it as well. Navigating himself through the crowd of witches, Readers and demons, Will finally found his way to Beatrice's room, to which he found Dlanor at the door already.

"You're LATE," Dlanor merely said as she was about to turn the doorknob.

"You're late too," Will scoffed. "Woke up late?"

Dlanor nodded her head demurely. "I didn't have time to EAT. I hope Lady Beatrice would give us something to eat for BREAKFAST."

"She'll have to, because I've got some news." Will opened the door in Dlanor's stead, to which he was rather shocked to find Beatrice and Ronove pondering over Lambdadelta's latest letter. They have been at it for hours without rest, and the two Heavenly children walked in, bowing simultaneously before Beatrice and Ronove. Beatrice looked up to see the children, to which Will stepped up first, boldly announcing that he had some important news for them.

"Dlanor, close the door and lock it," Will instructed. The girl closed the door quietly, locked it and nodded.

"It is LOCKED. You may SPEAK." Dlanor knew her friend well enough to predict his intentions, and Will cleared his throat. Beatrice, however, looked incredibly worried, but she tried to stomach down her fears.

"W-What is it, Will?" she asked, trembling a little. "What is it that you want to tell us?"

Will straightened up and sighed. "I went to see Lady Hemera yesterday. About...the actual conspiracy."

At that, Beatrice, Ronove and Dlanor looked at Will with horrified faces. It was unthinkable to even intrude upon Lady Hemera to ask about such a thing! And Will went off, doing just that without even telling either of them. Actually, if he DID tell them, they would do everything in their power to prevent him from disgracing himself and so on, so forth.

"Y-You did wha-" Beatrice was about to exclaim, but Dlanor looked at the Endless Witch rather impatiently, prompting her to keep quiet.

"Here's what I got," Will began. He then explained everything that Lady Hemera had told him, from start to finish. It took quite some time for the three of them to digest what he was saying, but at the end, they eventually understood everything. Will looked at Beatrice and Ronove, as if he was expecting an answer or a decision to the entire thing.

"A...personification witch," Beatrice slowly nodded her head, as if confirming Will's previous words. "Yes...It makes sense somewhat now..."

Ronove had a troubled look on his face. "What makes sense at the moment, Lady Beatrice?"

"To carry out her plans," Beatrice spoke in a rather hushed voice, referring to Featherine, "she needs Lady Lambdadelta's certainty. That explains it...!"

"But the game that Lady Lambdadelta is currently in..." Ronove spoke what was on his mind. "Wasn't it...the game that the previous opponent had played with Lady Aurora? If so...would there be a possibility that Lady Lambdadelta would be trapped inside as well?"

Dlanor looked crestfallen. "I do not want that to HAPPEN."

Beatrice got up, took the letter which had Lambdadelta's cursive handwriting and burned it with magic. Just as she had done with the previous letter. There was no need to read it, since she could roughly understand and remember what it had said. Walking to the door, she took a deep breath, looked at the three people in her room and had a serious frown on her face.

"We have to do something," Beatrice decided. "We can't keep saying that we'll do things without actually doing them."

"What do you plan to do?" Ronove asked, adjusting his monocle worriedly. Whenever Beatrice was adamant on something, there was no turning back.

And Beatrice was planning on something _dangerous._

"We have no choice. I'm sorry. We have to do everything we can to help Lady Lambdadelta." With that, she looked at the two Heavenly children, to which Will stepped forward and grinned, folding up his sleeves. Dlanor adjusted her hat and nodded her head, tugging at Ronove's coat.

"We'll help," Will declared. "We're old enough to do this."

Dlanor agreed. "We will HELP. Please rely on US."

They knew that they had to do this. No one else would. To be honest, they didn't know who was at their side, and who was not. It was best to deem every single person in the Senate against them, to the slight exception of Lady Hemera and her Reader, Natalie. There was a large maybe on their loyalties, and Beatrice knew that if no one does anything, they might be doomed.

They might lose their minds to that script-writer of a witch.

"What are you going to do?" Ronove asked, to which Beatrice smiled rather mischievously. She adjusted her hat, and giggled a little, signifying that she was planning. Rather, she already had the plans in her head.

"A little something~" Beatrice smiled cheekily.

Like...oh, a little _eavesdropping on the possible people who claim that there's no conspiracy?_

* * *

><p>"The last time we will see each other?!" Wright of the SSVD thundered, refusing to accept that his friend would sacrifice his life as a last resort.<p>

Two of the revered creators of the Decalogue and the Commandments of the mystery genre refused to back down in their standings. Wright simply, incessantly and firmly refused to even accept anything of the sort. They had already lost _her_, and possibly Lady Lambdadelta (if she does not survive), but Wright did not want to lose his friend. The friend who had stuck with him through thick and thin.

The friend who wanted to leave everything behind to put a stop to this.

"This might even be our last conversation," Knox laughed, but it sounded strained. "Wright, this is my fate."

"It is not, you old fool!" Wright slammed his hand again on Knox's table. "Think of the people who you're going to leave behind! Think of your daughter!"

Dlanor was the world to Knox. Ever since her mother died, Dlanor was the only family to Knox, and he treasured his daughter very dearly. He loved her very much, and he had entrusted his beloved daughter to Lambdadelta, trusting that Lambdadelta would keep her safe, or at least entrust her to good hands. So it was very puzzling to Wright at how Knox wanted to just give his life away to save the rest and abandon his only daughter. He doesn't even know if Knox's death could ensure the guarantee of the preservation of the many lives he intends to preserve.

Hell, Knox's death could even be the start of the loss of many other lives.

"My death is set, Wright," Knox explained. "It cannot be averted at all."

"And what does that exactly mean?" Wright glared at Knox.

Knox took a deep breath, hoping that his friend would at least understand. "Please, Wright. This is as much as I can tell you."

"This is as much as you can tell everyone!"

"I have no choice, Wright!" Knox exclaimed. "This is to permanently stop Lady Aurora's madness!"

It was a tense situation, and Wright refused to accept that Knox was right. He didn't even want to hear anything else on the matter, but he knew that the game was going on for too long. It was more in the name of pride; ever since that witch allegedly perished in the game, no one ever dared step up to the Witch of Theatregoing, Spectating and Drama.

And Knox apparently gained a backbone by wanting to risk his life.

"...I can't stop you, can I?" Wright looked at his friend with a very regretful frown on his face. The normally stoic, strict and level-headed man of the SSVD usually would never display any form of emotion, but when it came to the knowledge that you were about to lose your best friend...

What could you do?

What could you do but show them in that last moment that your friendship with that friend left a large impact in your life?

And Knox could only laugh softly, sadly, quietly.

* * *

><p>Lambdadelta herself wasn't any better at all.<p>

As she thought, sought help and did everything she could to solve the game, but there was only one conclusion that she could delve into, and she refused to accept it. She refused to accept the fact that the game was practically unsolvable if the rules were to be constantly applied and used, mainly because it reminded her of Knox's upcoming death. The days were cruel to her, and the nights did not provide her rest.

The nights were ghastly. Featherine almost completely had her body in her grasp, and every alternate night, Lambdadelta could feel her hands roaming everywhere. It was such a sickening feeling, and she even wondered why she had let herself be treated as such. It was wrong, vile, utterly disgusting, but Lambdadelta endured. She endured everything that Featherine had thrown at her, and she strengthened herself with only one reason.

If she were to defy Featherine at this period of time, something might happen to the _miko._

Lambdadelta didn't want anything bad to happen to the_ miko._

There was just something that made Lambdadelta want to protect the _miko_ as much as possible. Maybe it was because she longed for someone to understand her, maybe it was because of companionship, but she really couldn't tell. The _miko_ was practically her morality pet at that very moment, and whatever the world throws at Lambdadelta, she would endure as much as she could.

But that resolve slowly changed.

It slowly, but surely, changed for the worst.

* * *

><p>She was growing tired. Very tired.<p>

Lambdadelta couldn't get anything out. She couldn't even get anything out from the doppelganger, because the doppelganger couldn't even be communicated with due to it relentlessly pursuing the miko. And as time passed by, day after day, being like a decorative doll to Featherine, Lambdadelta found that she was growing tired, apathetic and a tad insane. She was even lying on the floor with Featherine on her cushions, surrounding herself with the scattered books that she would usually have this urge to put back at their respective bookshelves.

But there was one thing that she remembered to do.

When Featherine touches her, kisses her, or even embraces her, Lambdadelta doesn't release a sound.

Never in her life would she give her the satisfaction.

It reached to the point where Lambdadelta didn't care about anything anymore. She was constantly being used, manipulated and toyed with by the Witch of Drama, and she could feel her sanity slowly draining away. It was dangerous, but she didn't care. It was terrible, but she didn't care. It was insanely inhuman, but Lambdadelta found, once again, that she really didn't care. It sometimes raised the questions of 'What am I fighting for?' and 'Why am I here?'

The days passed by fruitlessly.

The nights were excruciatingly long.

And one night, when the two witches were in bed, Featherine stroked Lambdadelta's beautiful blonde hair, inhaling the scent of the Witch of Certainty, firm in her belief that she would eventually have her. Lambdadelta was awake as well, but unlike the other nights when she would usually look as passive as a blank sheet of paper, she was smiling.

Rather, she was smirking.

And before Featherine could even ask what was the reason behind her enigmatic smirk, Lambdadelta looked directly into Featherine's eyes, pulling the covers on her bare body as she spoke one single sentence.

She had a plan.

A very dangerous plan.

Maybe it would finally change everything. Maybe it would add some excitement to this terribly droll life! Maybe this would end her suffering and make her finally have something to do!

And it would be so much fun!

"You are going to lose," Lambdadelta breathed, giggling.

* * *

><p>She was <em>going to go inside the game herself.<em>

* * *

><p>AN: Please take note that the almost!porn stuff here is necessary in the plot. If you are irked by it, please don't read it!

Also I CHANGED THE COVER HAHA LATE ANNOUNCEMENT

Extra: Mendacium Speculorum is related to Rokkenjima Hotel.

-Densetau-no-Maguro.


	12. Twisted

**_Mendacium Speculorum_**

_Chapter 12: Twisted_

_Addressed to the Endless Witch, Beatrice,_

_I am not safe, and neither will you be. At this point, I'd normally advise you to immediately quit what you are doing and what you are planning to do, but I really wish that it would be that easy. I have no time to write lengthy words about how the world is droll and dangerous, so I'm just going to get straight to the point._

_Don't get hurt._

_Protect as many people as you can._

_Burn this letter._

_Signed,_

_The Witch of Certainty, Lambdadelta._

* * *

><p>Yet again, it was in English.<p>

The third letter surfaced even more questions in Beatrice and Ronove's minds. They thought that it was just-no, they didn't think of that. They knew that Lambdadelta hated using English in her letters, and this was the third time in a row that she had used perfect English in her letters. The Witch of Certainty kept on telling Beatrice the same things in the letters; don't get involved too much, make sure everyone's safe and burn the letters once she had read them. Not only did the letter surface the mountain of questions; it had resurface unwanted feelings of worry in the witch's and demon's hearts. The letter was, as usual, thrown into the furnace by the Endless Witch as she watched the edges of the paper burn oh-so-slowly. Yet before she knew it, the paper was completely burned.

Never to be read again.

It reflected their situation perfectly; everything seemed to be slow, and yet, everything was happening at a dangerously fast pace. Time catches them off guard when they least expect it, and that was a very dangerous thing. It was already morning, and the two Heavenly children went to do their parts in finding those who might be supporting Featherine.

Beatrice felt terrible, but she knew that she had to do something. At least something. Back before she even had a post in the Senate of Witches, she was well known for her magnificent stealth skills, her expertise in assassination and her strong resilience. It even shocked her that she herself felt like withdrawing from her own plans. How did she get so weak? How did she get so scared?

People would get scared too if they were to covertly plan something against someone who has a way higher rank than themselves.

"Are you alright, Lady Beatrice? Are you cold?" Ronove asked, wondering whether the morning air was getting to the witch. The silver haired witch shook her head with a small smile, tugging a few strands of her hair in habitual reassurance.

"Fine. I'm fine," she replied as calmly as she could. "When is Lady Hemera expecting us?"

Ronove laughed a little, taking out his pocket watch. "Did you forget, Lady Beatrice? She's coming here."

At that, Beatrice choked abruptly. She began looking frantically around the room, trying to spot any messes that might bring about Lady Hemera's displeasure, but Ronove merely laughed even more. "Don't worry, the room's spotlessly clean, Lady Beatrice. Pu ku ku!"

"But i-it's Lady Hemera! And if she's coming here-AH!"

There was a knock on the door, causing Beatrice to instantly yelp in fright. As if it was hardwired in her brain, she immediately went to the door, clasped onto the handle as if her life depended on it and slowly turned it to the right.

Or was it to the left?

_'Do you turn a doorknob clockwise or anticlockwise?!'_ came her terribly frantic thoughts-

"Lady Beatrice?" a regal yet obviously drowsy voice came from behind the door. "Are you..." the voice trailed off to a yawn, "...h-here...?"

"I'M HERE!" Beatrice immediately shouted in nervousness, prompting Lady Hemera to temporarily snap out from her drowsy-like state and stare at the door quizzically. She then looked at the doorknob, just waiting to be turned and when she reached out to turn it, Lady Hemera was instantly greeted by a very ecstatic Beatrice who opened the door for her in her excitement.

"A-Ah...Hello...Lady Beatrice...?" Lady Hemera eventually spoke in a terribly confused tone. The Endless Witch nodded vigorously as if she was speaking to a very famous person or even a god and as if she was some sort of robot, Beatrice extended her hand to beckon the first ranked witch of the Senate of Witches into her humble quarters.

"P-Please come in! I-I-I'm sorry for being late...to...um...open the door..." Beatrice simply wished that the earth beneath her would just swallow her up.

The first ranked witch of the Senate walked in with her signature drowsy smile, gracing the room with her presence. Lady Hemera was everything the witches had said about her or had heard about her; beautiful, tall, powerful, but dreadfully drowsy. The Creator witch would've been feared even more if she didn't look so drowsy all the time, but it seemed that Lady Hemera didn't even bother if anyone ever feared her or revered her. Because most of the time, she'd be napping. Sleeping. Away in her dream land. And when Beatrice and Ronove curtsied and bowed before her respectively, Lady Hemera nodded drowsily, but she ended up nodding way too much.

Resulting into her almost falling to the floor to sleep.

Beatrice rushed to hold her up, to which the Witch of Intelligence smiled yet another drowsy smile at her in appreciation and gratitude. She picked herself up, forced herself to muster some strength to reach the nearest chair and sat on it. She wasn't old and decrepit, mind you, but she was just terribly sleepy.

"Are you well, Lady..." A yawn. "...B-Beatrice?"

Beatrice nodded mechanically. "Y-Yes! I'm well, very well, at my utmost wellness..."

Ronove got a pillow for Lady Hemera, but she raised her hand, signalling that she didn't want it. If she were to be given a pillow, she would've dozed off in Beatrice's quarters, and why would she go there to sleep?

But maybe that was a rather good idea...

"I have come here to discuss about the conspiracy," Lady Hemera spoke softly, signifying that she was a little awake. "I do believe that Willard had told you about everything..."

"Yes, he did," Beatrice nodded, getting a little more serious. "...You...know of my plans, right, Lady Hemera?"

"I know of them," she nodded, heaving a distressed sigh. "But it will be dangerous. If you get caught-"

"The Senate will be presiding the court against me, is that correct?"

Lady Hemera said nothing, and that was enough for confirmation. "You must be prepared. And you are a fool, Lady Beatrice. Lady Lambdadelta did tell you to stay put and not do anything..."

She knew that she was contradicting herself. Things had to be done, and both of the witches knew it. They didn't want the entire Senate to be Featherine's doll-house; being controlled whenever she wants, however she wants.

"...Will Lady Lambdadelta be alright...?" Beatrice asked hesitantly.

"...I...I don't know," Lady Hemera shook her head. "Does she send news to you frequently?"

"Letters, but they're in English." Beatrice said. "What does this mean...?"

"I thought Lady Lambdadelta disliked English!"

"But she used it."

Lady Hemera suddenly snapped her fingers, looking at Beatrice with a rather satisfied look on her face. "English! Do you know what this means, Lady Beatrice?"

"W-What?" Beatrice was anxious, and so was Ronove. "What is it, Lady Hemera?"

"Codes! Lady Lambdadelta might be slipping some codes! Do you still have the letters?"

Beatrice gulped. She obviously followed Lambdadelta's instructions and by now, all the letters were burnt. The silver-haired witch shook her head regretfully, to which Lady Hemera, surprisingly, shook that off. "Never mind that," Lady Hemera said in a sing-song voice. "You can at least remember them and rewrite them down, right, Lady Beatrice?"

It was a gift that Beatrice had always had; remembering letters by heart. She was very proud of her gift because it had helped her in numerous situations, and Lady Hemera was rather confident that Beatrice's gift would serve its purpose right there as well. Beatrice nodded with a small smile, seeing a little hope in all the chaos around them.

However, the question was...

What was Lambdadelta trying to tell them?

* * *

><p>"Where do we START?"<p>

Dlanor walked along the hallways of the Senate of Witches, holding Will's hand so as to not get separated from each other. The two Heavenly children looked around for any signs of gossiping or whispering people, but to no avail. It seemed that it was the wrong day for them to begin their investigations, since it has been around three hours since they've started.

Three hours, and twenty "Where do we START?"s.

"You've been saying that since the past...three hours," Will sighed. "We'll be sure to find something."

"Have we switched ROLES? How is it that you're the patient one NOW?"

"I'm as impatient as you are, but this is important," Will grumpily replied. "There's got to be something somewhere. I think we're looking in the wrong places."

Knox's daughter shook her head in disagreement. Maybe that wasn't the case. Were they being too obvious to others? Surely some of the witches had realized something, or caught onto something that they wisely exited the premises. She thought of many possibilities; were they going to be ambushed? Caught? Or worse, apprehended?

"...It's too quiet HERE," Dlanor whispered. The children arrived at the main hall of the Senate of Witches, where it was quiet. Terribly quiet. They stood at the middle of the circle at the center of the hall, and there was that feeling in their chests that clearly made them a little more scared.

Then, Will heard some muttering from the seventh pillar to the right.

He closed his eyes and tightened his hold on Dlanor's hand as a signal for her to carry on keeping quiet. It was quiet enough for Will to hear from a distance, and Dlanor looked around rather wildly in her silence. What Will caught, however, was terribly shocking.

_Kakeras for us! Is Lady Aurora really going to bestow kakeras to us?_

_After she takes over, of course! All we have to do is keep convincing!_

_Convincing? That's...that's only when Lady Aurora wins this succession game!_

_Oh, don't worry. She always wins. Especially against that Lady Lambdadelta. That snobbish witch always sticks her nose up high ever since she left. Who does she think she is?_

Hang on.

Those weren't words.

Those were thoughts!

Will immediately pulled Dlanor, causing her to let out a small yelp under her breath. He dragged her from the hall and out as fast as he could, praying silently in his heart that no one had heard them.

_We have to convince the witches that there's no conspirac-_

"We have to tell them," Will spoke under his breath as he ran, hoping that Dlanor could hear him. Dlanor looked terribly bewildered and scared, but she ended up nodding her head as she ran. And as they ran...

"Who do we have here?"

Two witches looked at the children, who stopped dead in their tracks. Fearing for the worst, Will conjured up his black sword and pointed it at the two of them. "Don't come any closer!"

"W-Wilhemina...it's the son of Van Dine! And the daughter of Knox!"

"So? They heard us. Bet they were eavesdropping. Just kill them both."

Dlanor was about to scream, but Will ended up gritting his teeth in anger. Brandishing his sword, he urged Dlanor to fight by looking at her with that very same anger in his eyes, and when she got her blue sword ready, Will hissed under his breath.

"You will **_not_** kill us," he declared.

* * *

><p>"Aaaah, I'm almost ready to give up, Lady Aurora~" Lambdadelta said in a rather drunken trill, looking at the ceiling with rather hazy, red eyes.<p>

"Ready to give up?" Featherine lazily brushed her fingers through the former's hair. "Surely you don't mean it, dear Lady Lambdadelta..."

The Witch of Certainty truly looked like a mess. Not so much like a mess, but her expressions looked as if she was terribly euphoric. Euphoric for all the wrong reasons. She was giggling, sighing, smiling in such a silly manner that Featherine didn't even expect such expressions from such a witch. She was usually so strict, so uptight, but now, she was giggling like there was no tomorrow. However, inside the Witch of Certainty's mind, she was thinking. Thinking a lot. Thinking too much, even. Lambdadelta draped her body over Featherine's on the cushioned floor, feeling Featherine's skin against her fingers.

"Of course I don't mean it~! I don't mean it at all~! It would be so funny, however, if I were to suddenly give up!~"

"Yes, yes, that's true," the ebony-haired witch smiled, lifting Lambdadelta's chin up gently. "Such an intoxicating witch like you, giving up?"

"Oh, you flatter me~! You flatter me so much, Lady Aurora~! It would be so nice if you could keep me forever, right?~ Right?" With that, Lambdadelta stood up rather lazily, walked over to the projection and leaned against the table in a rather sultry manner.

Featherine couldn't believe her luck. There must've been something that made Lambdadelta like this, but she really didn't mind. Why would she let her go anyways? "Yes, you're right; you're always right, my dear."

"But..." Lambdadelta raised her gloved hand to point at the game projection, and then looked at Featherine with a naughty smile on her face. "You see, my almighty witch...I'm one to love voyaging here and there~! I do hope..._that you won't get lonely without me for a while~!_"

At that, she quickly said a spell, and the room started to distort very badly. Featherine's eyes widened in shock, and Lambdadelta gave Featherine one of her usual, triumphant smiles. The most powerful witch in the universe realized that she was tricked, and attempted to say another spell to counter it, but alas, it was too late.

Lambdadelta found herself right in the game.

And what shocked her the most was the fact that she was face to face with the _miko_ herself, who was as shocked as she was.

"...You...!" they said in unison, and at that very moment, they felt as if the world had stopped, only for them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE! THANKS FOR REVIEWING AND PUTTING UP WITH ME AKSJDHASJDKH i love all of you you have no idea aksjdhasjd

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


	13. Trapped

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Mendacium Speculorum<em>**

_Chapter 13: Trapped_

Red eyes met blue.

Gloved fingers intertwined with bare, wounded ones.

The one above has finally met the one at rock bottom.

It was the change that the witch had always wanted. It was the thing that she endured for throughout the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months. She didn't bother to count; what was most important was to endure to get what she wanted, and the great Lady Lambdadelta could've once laughed with joy and triumph upon claiming her rewards. It was an action that she _would've_ done a long time ago, when her happiness was viewed as a beautiful asset of hers by others who admired her and hated her. Time was indeed a cruel thing: it gives and takes away.

But this moment, this fateful, impossible moment was achieved, and neither of the two knew how. The _miko_ looked at her as if she was a goddess who descended from the highest of heavens, stunned to silence as she took in the clarity of her beautiful red eyes.

Eyes that knew much, but showed none. Eyes that were beautifully hardened, yet softened. Eyes that had seen many things, but exposed nothing,

**{** _and she wanted to cry for those eyes._ **}**

Intricately crafted white shoes gently touched the cold, hard and filthy ground, as if a very step could purify the ground that they were on. In the witch's eyes, this was her. The one whom Lambdadelta was destined to meet was her, and both of them knew it. The witch was to save the _miko_, to bring her out from this horrid hell and bring her to a sanctuary where she will be safe for the rest of her days.

In this hell where the surroundings smelled like dead rats and unimaginable filth, had blood stains on the dark walls and grotesque sights of rotting, decomposing bodies, Lambdadelta's appearance reeled the miko in instantly. The witch's perfume was the most comforting scent that she had ever smelled, which made the _miko_ quite self-conscious at her unsightly appearance before such an esteemed being.

Her blood would stain her gloves. The _miko's_ cuts, which still had dried blood on them in the process of healing themselves were still painfully visible, and for once in her life, Lambdadelta's heart ached terribly. If she could, she could crush her still-beating heart and throw it to the ground just to make it stop aching.

Attempting to speak in itself was suffocating, seeing the one whom she strove to save in such a degraded state.

She had to speak.

"Hello," Lambdadelta said, her voice ringing throughout the area. The same majesty and gentle, sweeping tones of her voice surprised the witch; she had thought that she had lost the capability to show such beautiful kindness forever, but it appeared to not be the case.

The afflicted one before her remained captivated, for she remembered that she _knew_ this witch.

"It's _you_," the miko breathed with wonder and disbelief. "...You came to save me."

She did.

She indeed did.

"It is _me_," Lambdadelta whispered. "I am sorry you had to wait long."

Solace. That was what they felt. After the surprise and the disbelief came peaceful, beautiful solace, which was not wasted among the two of them. They were together in this hell. They weren't alone. What was most important was the fact that they weren't alone, and the miko was overwhelmingly comforted with this large ray of hope that was before her.

"Y-You came! You actually came!" she cried. "I...I...!"

"I promised," was all the witch said with the same smile. "I promised to myself that I will come for you."

"H-How did you get here?! None of Master's opponents ever did try...!"

Lambdadelta did wonder, how did she get here? How did the spell work so flawlessly? Did she take that long to get Featherine's guard down? If that was her magic, then she could commend herself and laugh to herself inside, but now wasn't the time to laugh. It was the time to work, and work hard to get the desired end that would ultimately benefit them all no matter what the cost. Then again, Lambdadelta had changed; she must try not to let lives be lost, and everywhere she went, knives were pointed at her, rendering her stuck to be confined into her own mind for ideas and help.

So she settled for the famous phrase, "It's a long story."

The _miko_ looked at the witch's black gloves, already stained with dried blood from another. Lambdadelta didn't bother to wash her gloves, mainly to remember the old fool's future sacrifice, but the _miko_ had assumed that she was further dirtying her gloves. Every part of the witch was deemed sacred to the _miko,_ to which the _miko_ quickly withdrew her hand and apologized.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm much too filthy to hold your hand..."

To her surprise, the witch took the _miko's_ hand softly, so as to not hurt her with the wounds that she already had.

"You look like a fright," Lambdadelta said, laughing mirthlessly as she conjured up a velvet cloak to be put around the _miko's_ small, bare body. "Cover up."

The witch went against her own traditional beliefs; one must be damaged to be strengthened, but in the case of the battered _miko_ before her, she had been damaged enough. There was much work to be done, and very little time left. To capture Featherine Augustus Aurora in her own game, they would have to act quick so that she wouldn't have time or room to even think of something complex and elaborate to hinder them further. The Senate would never be the same again with rumors and distrust, and while her trusted ones are there fighting, she too had a part to play.

"Come," the blonde-haired witch said, gently leading the _miko_ by the hand as she walked forward. "Let us exit this place."

"W-What do you mean by that?" the frightened thing asked. "Master will-"

"She will be waiting for us, I know," Lambdadelta confirmed. "But now is our only chance to get out, and I will take you to the Senate."

As if the Senate was an unreachable heaven, the _miko_ gasped as she went beside the witch, walking beside her as she excitedly, despite the pains of her wounds, decided to ask her about it. "You will take me there? Will you show me everything? After we escape, you'll show me everything about the Senate? Will you tell me the stories behind all the rooms? Will you? Will you?"

When a hell gets unbearable, it is a true comfort to have a small ray of hope accompany one throughout his or her struggles. In this case, the witch was the _miko's_ hope, and like all desperate and longing people, the less regal of the two listened to the beautiful descriptions of the majestic and unattainable Senate of the witches. Marble pillars which were carved intricately and flawlessly by artisans, portraits of grand witches, numerous majestically furnished rooms and an apex in which one could feel as if they were at the top of the world. It was like envisioning a story come to life, and as they walked on the floors of the damned and smelled the stench of death, the witch finally stopped speaking of the famous beauty of the esteemed castle.

"...It is like a dream," Lambdadelta sighed. "All of this is already too familiar to me."

Her companion looked at her unreadable expression. "What do you mean, milady?"

"The stench. The sight. The familiar feeling of filth and bodies and bones and fluids beneath your feet," the Witch of Certainty softly said. "It is like revisiting old, unpleasant memories; to see this hell again is laughable, is it not?"

"Milady, y-you mean to say that-"

"Let us stop for a while. I will heal your wounds."

Like a handmaiden to her lady, the witch lowered herself to take the smooth, soft cloak off the _miko's_ body, draping it at the crook of her covered elbow. Without removing her gloves, Lambdadelta placed her hand gently on the first bloodied cut, letting the shine of magic heal it gradually as the _miko_ stared in amazement. The blue-haired girl was naked before the witch, and all the witch did was to inspect each and every wound and cut, healing ceaselessly without a word or a look of disgust. Angry red marks that were hardened with clots disappeared, leaving only the fair, soft skin that she once had.

Before the _miko_ knew it, the witch was done, and the more powerful of the two draped the cloak over her again. This time, the cloak smelled a lot like the witch who had given it to her, and as an extra measure, Lambdadelta tied the large ribbon at the front; not too tight, not too loose.

"Are you better now?"

"Y-Yes," the miko stammered. "T-Thank you, milady!"

While the young miko was hopeful and elated, as most rescued people would be, Lambdadelta was far wiser than that. She had pampered the victim enough; it was high time that they exited the Logic Error, and the witch reckoned that she would need more than her brain, the miko's and their luck combined. To fight for oneself was easy- to fight for others was harder.

Lambdadelta took the miko's hand in hers, then gently tugged on it. "When I tell you to run, run. Let go of this hand when the time comes."

* * *

><p><em>Let go of this hand when the time comes.<em>

* * *

><p><em>But...!<em>

* * *

><p><em>We love you. We love you very much. Please remember-<em>

* * *

><p><span><em><strong>No.<strong>_

No, no, _no, no, **no.**_

_Not now_,** not now**, **_not now._**

Memories, memories, useless, trashy memories! Trash, unneeded trash! Why did she have that trash with her?! Why now, _why now?! _

The tiniest signs of strain showed on Lambdadelta's visage, and she was angry. She was angry. Disgusted. Completely disgusted with herself. She was a witch- witches weren't supposed to remember what they used to be. Witches weren't supposed to dwell on their pasts, whatever they were in the past. Whether they were human, or pigs, or dogs, or whatever creature they were before, they weren't supposed to dwell on them.

Witches were supposed to be the pinnacle of fantasies, realities and dreams.

Witches were supposed to be magical. Witches were supposed to make anything possible.

Witches like her had the power to do things.

So Lambdadeta would have to look forward, not backward, to move on. She would have to face what was ahead, amidst all the rotting flesh and the scarred rats and the absence of even an inch of a life, bravely and with determination. She'd have to.

Then, the miko gasped.

Well, she had every right to. She was right to gasp in such a mortified, terrified manner. For right before them was the person that they've been waiting for; the being that had confused them all by merely existing, the being that horrified the poor miko so, the being that was an enigma, until Lady Lambdadelta had decided that she would no longer be one.

A mass of black- no face, no color! A silhouette that breathed, moved, walked, ran, lived! Lambdadelta could feel the miko clench her lithe fingers on the flesh of her arm, and the pain that followed reminded the witch that this was what instilled fear in her. This was the very thing that she was trying to solve. This was the very thing that could get them out, or if they weren't careful, this was the very thing that could kill them altogether.

"...Hoh," was all the blonde could say, placing extra emphasis on sounding as disinterested as possible.

Gracefully, the silhouette stepped on the still running rats on the bloodied ground, squishing them to death with her bare feet as they shrieked their last, saliva dribbling from their tiny, filthy mouths as the feared apparition advanced slowly, never looking back. The miko clenched her fingers tighter on Lambdadelta's gloved arm, yet the witch was far from giving up just because of a lousy attempt on intimidation.

And then, realization dawned upon the witch.

This was someone she knew.

This was someone who had associated with her before. This was someone who regularly visited her once upon a time, when she was much, much younger. This was someone who attended luncheons at the Senate, this was someone whom everyone regarded highly, and this was someone who was once-

_A witch._

Elements of horror sneaked into the Witch of Certainty's voice as she managed to find the name that was so long ago written in history as Featherine Augustus Aurora's first opponent in a Logic Error game.

"...Lady Aporia...!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I didn't abandon this fic, I swear.

So I finally updated! so so so sorry i was so busy on tumblr roleplaying ;A; please stay tuned for the next chapter!

-Densetsu-no-Maguro.


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